Little Secrets
by moonlit.nocturne
Summary: Yuu Kanda has just moved to New York, and through pure misunderstanding, finds himself rooming with a girl. Iris Fairing doesn't seem like she'll cause any problems - she's popular, has a boyfriend, and has a perfect GPA. Perfect on paper. But as they grow closer, Kanda soon realizes that perfection doesn't exist, and that Iris, like everyone else, has little secrets of her own.
1. Smile Upon Me

**Little Secrets**

Original Story: D. Gray-Man by Katsura Hoshino

**Chapter 1: Smile Upon Me**

It was one of those days, when the air was warm but hard to breathe, when the sun was shining but the atmosphere tepid. The city of New York moved as sluggishly as possible for a city of its size and caliber. The incessant sounds of honking rippled through the pleasantness of a rare and beautiful fall afternoon, and the inhabitants of the streets did not take the time to stop and appreciate the little serenity attainable from the scenery.

One such person dragged his suitcase along the streets aimlessly, glancing up at the old city apartment buildings occasionally. Despite the fact that everyone around him seemed to have important business to attend to, they all spared a second to glance back at him once they'd passed. It was not an uncommon reaction. Annoying as it was, he was essentially used to being stared at. Perhaps it was the long hair. Or his…slightly feminine features. Or the fact that he was dressed rather warmly for such a humid day, but he had only assumed that New York City in the middle of September would be cold. He tugged at his scarf, bothered by the cumbersome clothing.

His cell phone rang. He paused in the middle of the street, shuffling slightly to the side of the sidewalk as he struggled to retrieve his phone from the pocket of his trench coat. He looked at the screen—it was Lavi.

"What?" he said as he answered.

"What do you mean, _what_?" Lavi said sourly. "I'm checking up on you, man. You land safely?"

"Clearly," he said dryly.

"Don't be so snarky," said Lavi. "Just being a friend."

"Didn't ask for it."

"Yeah, yeah. Have you found your apartment yet?"

"No."

"Seriously? Didn't you get the taxi driver to drive you there?"

"I took the subway and bus."

"…_Why_?"

"Cheaper."

"Kanda," said Lavi, frustrated. "Look, you're going to get _lost_. You don't even have your new roommate's phone number. What if you just keep wandering and never arrive? You're going to get mugged at night, then stabbed and left to die—"

"Shut up, Lavi," said Kanda, annoyed. "I'm close."

"How do you know?"

"Intuition."

Lavi snorted. "Sure, okay. Do you need me to Google map where you are and give you directions?"

"I'm fine," said Kanda, looking up at the street signs. "I'm on 118th already. It should be soon."

"Fine," said Lavi. "Let me know when you settle down."

"Whatever."

"You are—"

Kanda hung up and continued his trek down the street, his suitcase rolling along the sidewalk's many cracks and bumps. His suitcase was heavy and the clothing proving to be very stifling; 118th, 117th…he looked up at the signs again. 116th. Relieved, he sighed and turned to find the closest building number, but instead realized that he was next to a body of water. Bemused, he looked up at the sign again.

East 116th Street.

Well, fuck. He was on the wrong side. He had to cross the entire city to get to the other side. So much for being close.

He dialed Lavi back.

"Lost?" said Lavi triumphantly.

"No. I just need to cross the entire island."

"Good luck."

"Shut up. Is there a bus?"

"I dunno. Why don't you just walk? It's cheaper."

"Shut up."

"You're lost," said Lavi in a sing-song voice. "Yuu Kanda is lost, he should have taken a taxi, but he's so stubborn—"

"Asshole, the moment you get here I am going to beat the living shit out of you—"

"But I'm going to be gone _the entire semester_!" laughed Lavi. "Good luck flying to Oxford and finding me—you'd get lost in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean trying to swim there because it's _cheaper_—"

"You—"

"You lost?" said a voice behind him.

Kanda turned around. A tall, well-dressed man stood behind him, his blazer slung over his shoulder as he used both hands to light a cigarette propped between his teeth. His black hair clung to his neck in waves, and as he grinned, he showcased a set of perfectly white teeth. He looked like a professional worker of some sort, given his formal attire, but there was a peculiar look in his nearly golden eyes that made Kanda think otherwise.

"Lost?" repeated the man.

"…Sort of," admitted Kanda.

"Where are you heading?"

"Morningside Heights."

The man arched an eyebrow. "No way."

Kanda didn't know how to respond, so he didn't.

"Someone offered to help you?" said Lavi.

"Yeah," said Kanda. "I think. I'll talk to you later."

He hung up again.

"Mind directing me?" said Kanda coolly.

"You need to cross the island," said the stranger.

"Yeah, I got that," said Kanda impatiently. "Is there a bus or something?"

"Yeah, but with the amount of time it takes, you might as well just walk."

"How long would that take?"

"A while," answered the stranger breezily, letting out a puff of smoke.

Kanda disliked him already.

"I actually have a car," continued the man. "And strangely enough, I am actually headed to that precise complex. Convenient, no?"

Kanda frowned. "You're a creep."

The stranger laughed. "No, I'm not. I told you—it's the strangest coincidence, but I'm being quite serious. My…girlfriend lives in that complex and I was heading over to her place. Want a lift?"

Kanda hesitated. It was a little too coincidental.

The man shrugged. "It's fine if you don't want to. I'll just see you over there in about an hour."

"Fine," snapped Kanda. "I'll take the ride."

"You're welcome," he responded mockingly as he stuck out a hand. "Name's Tyki."

"Kanda," he muttered in response, shaking the hand briefly. Though Kanda was not short, he could not help but feel slighted as he stood in front of Tyki, who was clearly a few inches taller.

"My car's parked that way," said Tyki, pointing behind him. "Once you see it, you'll hopefully stop thinking that I'm here to kidnap you and take all your money, because quite honestly, nothing you're wearing would look that flattering on me."

Kanda frowned but said nothing as he following Tyki to the car, parked a block down from where they had been. A black BMW's lights blinked as they approached.

"_That's_ your car?" said Kanda, unable to contain himself.

"Yep," grinned Tyki as he dropped his cigarette and crushed it. "Beautiful, isn't she? Latest model. Fourth edition BMW M3. I got her last week. Here, let's put your suitcase in the trunk."

Kanda heaved his luggage in the back of the car and then climbed in the passenger seat, where he looked around the car in self-controlled admiration. He did not want to come off as an idiot staring in awe, but the car was beautiful and the man who owned it _clearly_ rich.

"So are you moving in or something?" asked Tyki as he started the car.

"Yeah."

"What are you doing in New York?"

"School," answered Kanda. "I'm transferring to Columbia."

"Oh, wow. You're smart. My friend—I mean, girlfriend's graduating there next year."

"Oh."

"Know what you're majoring in?"

"No."

"What year are you?"

"Sophomore."

"You have time then. Or at least, that's what she says to every underclassman she meets," said Tyki. "I don't particularly know the logistics of college."

"You go?"

"Nope. Dropped out sophomore year from a school in Boston. Moved here for work."

"…What do you do?" said Kanda, privately thinking that Tyki was probably an assassin-for-hire if he didn't need a college education to pay for a BMW.

"You'll find out if you hang around for long enough," said Tyki cryptically. "So where are you from originally?"

"Born in Japan. Been living in Atlanta."

"I see. Your parents still in Atlanta?"

"Yeah."

"Nice," said Tyki, clearly bored with the small talk.

His phone rang, and the car's digital monitor lit up as well. _Incoming call, Iris Fairing. _

"Answer," said Tyki to the machine, evidently relieved that he had a reason to avoid social niceties. "Hey, Iris."

"She's not here yet," said a worried voice. "Do you think she got lost?"

"No, it takes a while to come from the airport. Don't freak."

"Should've asked for her number…" she said. "How stupid of me."

"Don't worry about it, she'll be there soon."

"Yeah…where are you?"

"On my way to your place."

"Didn't you say you'd get here fifteen minutes ago?"

"Got delayed, picked up someone who was lost and conveniently on his way to your complex."

"You're the only New Yorkie who would actually pick up a stranger. What if he has a gun and is there to steal your car?"

"He can hear you, Iris."

"Oops."

"Besides…" Tyki glanced sideways at Kanda, "I don't think he's that type."

"Mm-hm…fine, I'll see you soon."

"Bye." The call ended, and Tyki turned to Kanda apologetically. "Girlfriend," he explained, as if Kanda had asked.

"Don't care," said Kanda.

Tyki looked amused, but he didn't comment on Kanda's clearly disinterested reaction. "Well…here we are."

The car turned a corner and they arrived in front of a series of tall, brick buildings primarily made for residency.

"There's no garage…" he muttered more to himself than to Kanda. The BMW crept slowly down the street, and then just as another car pulled out of its spot on the side, Tyki swerved into the spot easily. Clearly, he had been driving in large cities for a long time.

"Off we go," he said. "Watch it when you open the door—don't hit the curb."

Tempted though he was to smash the door in completely, Kanda got out gingerly and looked up at the complex in front of him. It was a high-rise, red brick building that he truthfully found incredibly distasteful. He scowled. With the price of the rent, he would've found a penthouse in Atlanta.

"Don't look like that," said Tyki, handing him his suitcase. "It's quite nice inside."

Kanda took the suitcase with a nod of appreciation.

"What room are you?" asked Tyki.

"247."

Tyki stared.

"247?" he repeated.

"Yeah."

Tyki's lips began to curl upward in a huge smirk, but at Kanda's confused expression, he hitched it back and appeared impassive.

"I see."

They entered the building, and after a brief nod to the front desk recipient, who seemed to recognize Tyki, they took the elevator up to the second floor.

"You don't have to show me all the way to the apartment," said Kanda bluntly. "I can read signs."

"Oh, I wasn't intending to. I'm just heading in the same direction."

Slightly wary, Kanda left the elevator as the doors began to slide open. He paused for a second to read the sign, but Tyki just said,

"Hall to your left."

Kanda nodded and turned to the left, but when he saw that Tyki was following him, he could not help but grow unnerved.

"Seriously," said Kanda irritably, "you don't have to—"

"Not following you, man. I'm really going in the same direction."

The fact that Tyki had just been "going to the same complex" and was now "going in the same direction" infuriated Kanda—coincidences were not this freakish. Muttering under his breath, he turned his heel and walked quickly. 247, 247…it was the third door from the end. He knocked on the heavy and newly varnished door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tyki approach him and wait. Kanda's temper blew.

"Why are you following me?" he said angrily.

"I'm not," said Tyki, grinning.

"You have been following me from the start—it's fucking freaky—"

The door in front of Kanda finally opened.

"Tyki, she's still not here—oh!"

A woman with shoulder-length brown hair, dressed in an off-the-shoulder T-shirt and leggings, stared up at Kanda.

"Are you Yuu?" she asked, smiling gently.

A vein prickled in his temple—he did not appreciate being called by his first name. Yet it wasn't like she knew that, so Kanda merely nodded curtly.

"Hi, it's so nice to meet you," she said, hugging him abruptly. Kanda stiffened immediately at the contact and without thinking, jerked out of her hold, stepping back in the hallway.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded.

Her jaw dropped. "Oh, my gosh."

A few feet away, Kanda heard the undeniable sounds of muffled laughter. He turned to find Tyki leaning heavily against the wall and clearly dying of laughter.

The girl poked her head out of the hallway, her face flushed.

"Tyki!"

"Hi, Iris," he greeted, still laughing.

"Don't just 'hi' me, what's going on?"

"What do you mean, what's going on? Isn't it obvious, Miss Columbia? _This_," said Tyki, gesturing to Kanda, "is your roommate. And if you haven't noticed by now, _this_ is a guy."

"What?" snapped Kanda. "Of course I'm a guy—why the hell did you think I wasn't?"

"I actually thought you were a girl," admitted Tyki. "That's the only reason I approached you—you looked extremely…uh…pretty from the side. But then you started talking and obviously your voice is a guy's so…"

"You're a guy?" said Iris weakly.

"And you're the roommate?" said Kanda, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. "I thought the roommate was a Mark Epstein!"

"…Oh, dear," she said.

"It's okay, Iris," chuckled Tyki, "you can still live with him—"

"But that's…"

"Did you not look at the roommate applications at all?" said Kanda.

"I did!" she said, laughing a little bit. "I saw your picture, I saw your name, I saw where you were from and what you're doing here—"

"You saw everything except for my gender," said Kanda, deadpan.

Iris winced. "Essentially…yes."

"…I'm not a woman," said Kanda, wishing that he wouldn't have ever had to say the statement. What was even sadder was that this was not the first time he had made this kind of assertion. He was eternally grateful Lavi was nowhere nearby—the last time this had happened, Lavi had tormented him for months.

"I see that…now," she added in an undertone. She let out a deep breath. "Sorry, this has been extremely rude of me. I made a big mistake." She extended a hand. "I'm Iris Fairing. It's nice to meet you."

Kanda shook her hand, and she stepped back to invite him in the apartment.

"Please, come in."

Kanda obeyed, stepping inside the apartment with his suitcase following. There was a loud bang behind him, and he whipped around immediately to find that Iris had attempted to shut Tyki out of the apartment.

"Oh, come on, Iris, it was a good joke."

"Get out, Tyki."

"Don't be mad—I only realized that he was your roommate when we arrived."

"You should've taken the stairs and called."

"It was a practical joke, let it go."

Iris sighed and stepped away, letting Tyki come in.

"He's your boyfriend, isn't he?" said Kanda, cocking his head to one side.

Iris paused for a second before replying, "Yeah."

"Then why don't you guys live together? Why do you need a roommate?"

The two of them exchanged looks.

"Tyki…has his own place," said Iris. "And he's got work that…functions better when he lives alone. Besides, I've lived here since sophomore year and then my roommate graduated last year, so I figured I might as well stay here for my senior year too."

Kanda arched an eyebrow but said nothing, instead looking around the apartment. It was a clean, rather open space—Tyki had been right, it was quite nice inside.

"Um. Yuu—"

"It's Kanda," he said curtly.

"Oh. Okay. Um, Kanda. Would you like anything to drink before we sit down and talk about our…evidently very curious living situation?"

"…Water's fine."

"And a beer for me, sweet," said Tyki.

"You drove, so no."

"I'll be staying here for a while—we can go across the street for dinner. You don't have to worry about me."

Iris shook her head and disappeared into the kitchen. Kanda took another glance around. The apartment was already fully furnished, just as the advertisement had indicated. The girl had good taste in furniture. Mostly everything complemented the deep shade of red on the walls; the coffee table was mahogany-brown, and the sofa—felt like cashmere—was a light tan. Works of art—twisted wires and steel, paintings from the Renaissance—decorated the walls, along with the occasional vase of flowers. There was a large window that stood at the left wall of the apartment, giving Kanda a view of the city. A flat-screen TV stood rigidly across from the couch they were sitting on. Kanda frowned. Everything seemed rather expensive. Was the girl a rich spoiled brat? That would explain the clear lack of insight when it came to determining who her future roommate would be…

"Here," said Iris, placing a bottle of cold water in front of him and tossing a beer to Tyki. "You don't need a bottle-opener, right?"

"Nope," said Tyki, merely twisting the cap. It popped off effortlessly.

"So…" said Iris anxiously, taking a sip of her own drink—iced coffee. "Kanda?"

"…It's nice here," he said honestly.

"If you mean the furniture, my old roommate was obscenely rich," laughed Iris. "She bought literally everything, and left it all for me after she graduated. I was very lucky—I couldn't have ever afforded it all."

"But you're fine with the rent?" said Kanda.

"It's a bit steep," she said, "but it's hard to find such a good location. We also get a discount because this apartment is signed to my old roommate's brother—"

"That explains it," muttered Kanda. "I thought the roommate would be a Mark Epstein."

"Yeah, that's him. But anyway, there's a bit of a commute to Columbia, but I like being right here. But um…so I guess I should say that I already used your down-payment to pay for this month's rent."

Kanda's eyes flickered. "Meaning?"

"Well…if you want to move out, I can't stop you. But I'm also broke, so it'll take me a while to pay you back. And you'll have to look for a different place, which will be hard."

"So what are you suggesting?'

"I know it's weird," she said, "but I don't mind rooming with a guy—I know I can be very forthcoming, but I promise I won't hit on you or anything."

"Considering that you have a boyfriend, I wouldn't have expected that to begin with," said Kanda dryly.

"Oh. Right. Forgot about that," she laughed. "But…yeah. I know it's weird. But…hey, by any chance, are you gay?"

She seemed incredibly hopeful.

"No," said Kanda icily.

"Bummer," sighed Iris, completely unfazed by the potential awkwardness of the situation. "But it's fine. I think it'll work out fine—just let me know what you do or don't like, and I'll try to be accommodating. Rent, we can figure out as we go—I get paid pretty soon so I'll be okay for next month as long as you pay your share. I can show you how to get to school and stuff if you need help, and—"

"I hate people who talk so much," interrupted Kanda.

Iris looked stricken, but Kanda did not care. Something about the girl irritated him to no end.

"Which one's my room?" said Kanda.

"Down the hall…the one on the left."

He stood up and took his suitcase.

"Accommodations," he said coldly. "I don't need any. Don't bother me, I won't bother you. I'll figure out how to get to campus. You don't need to pretend to be nice."

Without another word, he disappeared down the hall.

* * *

Iris was smiling as Kanda left.

"Wow," said Tyki. "He saw right through you."

"Ah…" she said, finally relaxing and spreading out on the couch. "He's just been full of surprises today. We're going to have fun."

"You seriously thought he was a girl, didn't you?"

"Did I ever show you his application?"

Tyki shook his head. Iris got up and retrieved her laptop from the kitchen counter.

"Here," she said after momentary searching. Tyki scooted over to her, his arm draped casually around her shoulder, as he peered at the screen.

"Whoa."

"Yeah," she said, looking at the picture. "My mistake was completely valid. Why would he leave his hair down for this photo? He looks like a woman. Not to mention that I can't even see his clothes to tell if they're masculine or feminine."

"Well, sweet, it was still awkward."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm an idiot. I knew it the moment I hugged him. Guy works out—his chest is rock-hard and…flat."

Tyki kissed her gently. "It was a valid mistake, like you said. Want to get dinner?"

"I have leftovers. Besides…don't you have dinner plans? Also known as _work_?"

"Yeah, yeah," he murmured, his hands beginning their familiar roaming. Iris allowed him to kiss her for a bit longer, deepening it, but then his tongue began to flirt with hers and his hands had slipped under her shirt—

"I thought Fridays and weekends were our days for this," she breathed.

"Thursday," he said. "Close enough."

"Stop…" she said, pushing him off. "If we end up doing it now, who knows if you'll be able to perform tonight. I'm sure your dinner date will feel cheated."

"Babe, don't worry about my proficiency—I never have problems performing," said Tyki with a quick smirk. "Besides, you know what happens to me when you show off those wonderful collarbones of yours." He bit the skin above them affectionately.

"Fetishistic, aren't you," she said mildly, patting his head as he buried himself in her neck. "Seriously, Tyki…you're a freaking sex addict."

"It's what I do, it's what I'm good at, it's what I love."

"Yes, I know, but unfortunately, today's not one of our designated days. School starts next week though, and I'm sure there will be a flurry of activities that we can attend together."

"Ugh, college parties," he groaned, resting his head on her shoulder. "Why can't we just stay home, get drunk, and fuck?"

"Or just fuck," she said. "Tempting."

"Yes," he said. "College parties are overrated. You're just about as grown-up as I am."

"Please don't say that," she said, shuddering. "I'm already having problems dealing with the fact that I'm a senior—get _up_, Tyki, you're going to be late for your dinner."

"Dinner, lunch, brunch," he grumbled, lying down on her lap. "It's all exhausting sometimes."

"What happened to 'it's what I do, it's what I'm good at, it's what I love?'"

"Well, it is, but doesn't make it any easier. They can all get annoying. Which is why I only like you."

"Mm-hm."

"Don't look like that, babe. I'm being serious. It's why we're best friends, no?"

"Sometimes, I wonder how you delineate 'best friend' from 'fuck buddy.'"

"Easy," he said. "You're the 'friend' who overlaps with 'fuck buddy,' which makes you a 'best friend.'"

"Charming," she smiled. "Okay, best friend, you gotta go."

"No."

Iris sighed and ruffled his hair. "Hey, Tyki. Why'd you tell Kanda that I was your girlfriend? I thought you were only telling desperate people that? And my friends?"

"Well, he's your roommate. Shouldn't he know?"

"You told him before you knew he was my roommate, didn't you?"

Tyki thought for a second. "Yeah. Hm. I remember thinking about which one to say, but 'girlfriend' came out first and it was just going to be weird to retract it."

"You're going to have to tell me what you're telling others, you know. I don't want it impacting your work or…whatever."

"Don't worry," he said, sitting up and stretching. "If random people expect you to be my girlfriend, just make a judgment call. If they look like they're about to kill you, deny it. I don't want you getting hurt for stupid reasons."

"Thanks," she said. "Good to know that you are dealing with people who would kill me."

"Women," he scoffed. "Some of them are crazy."

Iris frowned. "Don't say that, Tyki. They just all love you."

"But they can't buy that from me," he said cheekily.

"So much for you being grown-up," she said. "You're such a kid."

"And you're a little sneak," he breathed. "Always pretending to be so nice—doesn't it exhaust you?"

"It does," she said, learning forward and kissing him. "But that's why I always keep you around. You don't judge."

"Only because you don't, babe." He returned her kiss and sat up. "All right, Iris—I'll leave you and your new roommate to do some nice bonding activities."

"I don't think he's the type."

"You aren't either."

Iris smiled. "Not in the slightest. It's actually nice that he's this antisocial—I like my alone time too. Renee was too much personality for me. I couldn't stand her for more than two hours at a go."

"But you roomed with her for two years."

"Tyki. She was rich as hell."

"Touché." Tyki grinned. "You are such a little sneak. I bet she never even knew how much she was being used." He leaned in, his breath hot by her ear as he whispered, "That's why I like you best."

* * *

Kanda successfully unpacked everything within an hour of his arrival. His suitcase had primarily contained clothes, so there had been nothing terribly difficult to unwrap. He gave Lavi a call after he finished.

"I told you to take a cab," said Lavi without preamble. "Did you seriously _just_ arrive?"

"No, idiot," said Kanda. "I just finished unpacking."

"So how is it? You meet your roommate? How is he?"

"…My roommate is not Mark Epstein, like you said it was," said Kanda shortly. "It's a girl."

"…_No_."

"Did you not read the ad, you moron?"

"I did!"

"You didn't—you probably thought all the fine print was too tiny and just ignored it—"

"Fine, next time you want to find a place, look for it yourself, you asshole. But how is she? Hot?"

Kanda groaned inwardly. Lavi sounded way too excited.

"You have a girlfriend. Stop _striking_ every time you see someone remotely attractive."

"She's _hot_, isn't she?" said Lavi triumphantly.

Kanda thought back to her. Shorter, thin—seemed like she was fit and flexible. Small face. Round eyes. Straightened hair. She looked generic.

"Send me pictures—or actually, I'll just go stalk on Facebook. What's her name?"

"Stop being an idiot."

"What's her name?"

"Iris Fairing," said Kanda, knowing that Lavi would have found her eventually.

There was the sound of quick typing.

"Whoa. She's hot."

"She's not."

"Columbia…senior? Fairing…not a big family name that I know of. She does a lot of random stuff—lots of volunteer work, journalism, yoga—she's like…perfect on paper. _Shit_, she's published already! _First author_, what? And whoa…" More rapid clicking, "is that her boyfriend? Tyki Mikk? _He's_ good-looking. Weird, he's not in the Columbia network—oh, he's older, twenty-five, maybe grad student? Nope…"

"How did you get that much—actually, never mind," said Kanda, well aware of Lavi's extreme stalking abilities.

"So what's she like?"

"…She's just like any other girl. Annoying. Shallow. Doesn't know how to shut up."

"In other words, she's a perfectly sociable, attractive, intelligent girl who knows how to get things done."

"Just stop it."

"Fine. But are you seriously going to room with a girl?"

"Tell me a better plan, Sherlock. She already deposited my check and finding another apartment will be a pain in the ass."

"Yeah, but…c'mon, Kanda. You know what happens when you're around women—and men, sometimes—they go crazy—"

"I know that," he said lightly.

Lavi got the message. "I'm just…worried for you, man."

Kanda let out a breath. "Look, she's got a boyfriend—I don't think she'll cause any problems."

"That hasn't stopped people before, Kanda."

"Yeah, well hopefully it'll stop her," Kanda snapped.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Lavi exhaled.

"Yeah, you're right," said Lavi. "I'm overthinking it. Especially when her boyfriend looks like _that_—you know, Kanda, I think they finally found someone better-looking than you, other than me, of course—"

"Right," said Kanda sarcastically. "Shut up."

"Yeah, yeah, I gotta go anyway—Lenalee's calling me. Don't want her to see that I'm stalking someone random. Hope you have a good time, man. Call your old man and let him know you arrived."

"I already did," said Kanda.

"Great. Bye then."

Right as Kanda hung up, there was a knock on his door.

"Hi," said Iris, the same gentle smile that he'd first seen her with in place.  
Kanda felt a bristle of resentment.

"What?" he said brusquely.

Iris crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"Stop acting like I'm a pest," she said. "I was wondering if you wanted to go get dinner with me, now that you're done unpacking."

"I'm not finished."

"You had one suitcase. It was probably all clothes and toiletries. You're done. Let's go."

She was still smiling faintly, but her eyes had gained a hardened gleam—perhaps not hard, but commanding. It made her entire aura change, and along with the resentment flowed wariness.

"Come on. You're in New York. First night. I'll treat you out."

Kanda could not help it. As if pulled by some greater power, he followed her as she walked away.

"You're…nineteen, Kanda?"

"Yeah."

Iris slung a bag over her shoulder, checking it for something. "So not technically of age. Looks like we'll have to go to a place that won't card. Though it's pretty lax here, honestly."

"Where's…Tyki?"

"Oh, he had an appointment," she answered, gesturing for them to exit. She locked the door behind them. "He's usually occupied during the weekdays."

"What does he do?"

"He's…hm. He does special things."

"What?"

"I'll tell you after we get to know each other a little better," she said. "We can just go across the street to find some place. What kind of food do you like?"

"Soba," said Kanda bluntly.

"…The noodles?" said Iris incredulously. "Huh…well. That might take a little longer to get to. You mind traveling for a bit?"

"We can just go across the street," he muttered, unwilling to stay any longer than necessary around her. "Anything's fine."

"Soba, hm…very Japanese. You live in Japan for a while?"

"When I was a kid."

"Do you miss it?"

"No."

"I went to Japan for study abroad in my sophomore year," she said as they exited the building and began to walk down the street. "There was an international exchange program with Tokyo U—it was an incredible experience."

Kanda did not have anything productive to say in response, so he just grunted. Iris smiled a little wider.

"Ah, right. You hate people who talk. I guess I'll just shut up now."

He would have almost preferred it if she had kept chatting. There was something about her that made him exceedingly aware of everything when she was around. She was completely different from the person he had met earlier, even though there had been nothing drastically obvious about the change. She was still polite, nice, but…he didn't know. Something about her was imposing.

Kanda re-focused his attention on his surroundings; the high buildings, the busy cars, the sky that was slowly darkening.

"Here," said Iris, opening the door to a diner. "There's good basic food here—burgers and whatnot. I used to come here with—"

"Iris!" called someone from across the restaurant.

A blonde, busty woman waved over at them. Iris waved back, motioning that they would join them momentarily.

"Speak of the devil. It's Renee," said Iris as she and Kanda were seated. "She was my old roommate."

Renee did not even wait for the server to finish asking what they wanted to drink before bustling over and sliding into the booth with Iris.

"Iris!" smirked Renee, hugging her. "It's great to see you—I thought you hated eating out? Here, especially. This girl has such a problem with going out—"

"It's a special occasion," said Iris, hugging her back and inclining her head at Kanda. "I have a guest. Or rather, your replacement."

Renee's eyes widened at the sight of Kanda.

"Um…" said Renee, clearly unsure of how to approach him.

Kanda gave an exasperated sigh. He could see her mind internally whirring to decide whether he was a guy or girl. Perhaps it would be easier on everyone if he just walked around naked.

"His name's Kanda," said Iris, helping the conversation.

Renee seemed relieved that Iris had used a gendered word.

"Oh, hi," she said, offering her hand. "Renee Epstein—my brother owns the apartment you're living in now. But _wow_, you're rooming with a guy?" she said, turning to Iris and retracting her hand before Kanda had shaken it. It was fine—Kanda had made no movement to do so.

"Yeah. There was a slight…misunderstanding, but this will be the most convenient thing to do."

"But is your hot-shot boyfriend okay with this?"

"Renee, you've met Tyki countless times. You know he's fine with it."

"Oh, you lucky, _lucky_ girl," said Renee, looking at Kanda intently. "Your boyfriend is gorgeous, and…well, has anyone told you how adorably beautiful you are, Kanda?"

"Countless times," said Kanda, his words dripping with sarcasm. He felt like punching someone—preferably the big-breasted blonde in front of him—to regain the masculinity that had been stripped of him countless times today—oh, wait, that happened every time he met someone new. Iris smirked, and Kanda caught sight of that hard glare in her eyes again—derisive and cold—before it and the smirk melted away completely, and Iris was merely smiling faintly again.

"Ooh, the voice gives you away," said Renee, unaware of everything. "Sexy and deep. I like that."

"Renee. Seriously…contain yourself."

"Fine, fine," she yawned, standing up. "You are a lucky girl, Iris. Be sure you don't regret this though—you don't want any strange rumors to crop up about you, I dunno, being a cougar or something. You had plenty of strange drama junior year…"

Iris only smiled. "Of course."

Kanda contained a shudder—this was the first obvious indication of the glacial aura he had been getting from her all evening. Renee seemed oblivious to it, and after waving goodbye, she walked away and left them alone. Iris blinked—the coldness disappeared—and she returned to look at him, a blank slate.

"You don't like her?" said Kanda lightly.

"What?" said Iris, startled. "No, I love the girl! What made you think that?"

Her aura had changed to the same one she had been exerting when he'd first met her. He finally realized what it was—it was superficial, which was why she had irritated him so incredibly much before. She looked at him now, her eyes wide and innocent, her lips parted in a small "O" of gentle concern. Kanda's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing," he said thinly, unconsciously edging back in his seat.

Iris's eyes softened, and she opened her menu.

"And what would you like, Mr. Adorably-Beautiful?"

"Your head on a platter, if you say that again."

Iris laughed, and this time, it sounded more genuine. "Ah…you know it's true though. You are quite beautiful."

"Believe me," he snarled, "if I could've chosen to be born with a different face than this one, I would have."

"Why?" she questioned. "Life is always easier for the beautiful."

"No," he said in a steely tone. "It's not."

Iris seemed to understand that she had touched a sensitive nerve. She retreated immediately, burying herself in her menu again.

"Ah, who am I kidding…" She snapped it shut after a few minutes of perusal. "I've been here for three years—they're not going to change anything. You know what you want?"

"No."

"How about I just get you whatever I'm getting? It'll make things faster, especially since you're so eager to get rid of me anyway."

"I—"

"That's all you're thinking about anyway," she said with a grim smirk. "You're an open book, Yuu Kanda."

"What?"

The server came over with their waters.

"We won't be needing those," said Iris. "Rather, two number fours for take-out please. And make it as fast as you can."

Kanda could only stare, stunned, as the server left them.

"See?" she said, her eyes nearly winking with her smile. "I can be accommodating."

She did not speak to him for the duration of their wait, and when the server returned with their meals, stacked neatly in Styrofoam boxes and wrapped in a plastic bag, she took it with gracious thanks and left without another look at Kanda. Completely thrown, he followed her out of the restaurant.

They stalked down the street in surreal silence, one so loud that the honking of cars and the moderate rumbling of the subway under their feet were lost on him. As irritated as he was, he felt…almost threatened. It was ridiculous—she was more than half a foot shorter than he was, she was tiny, she looked weak…but he had known her for only a few hours—who was he to judge—but Lavi had said that she was "perfect-on-paper," and he didn't know her at all.

But that was just it. She was just "perfect-on-paper." And when that superficial persona came out…she was just paper.

Because in whatever reality she really was, the girl in the three-dimensional space and with the fickle threats and commands came off as violently twisted.

Iris Fairing on paper was a fake.

* * *

_free talk_:

hello! i truthfully thought i would retire the dgm fandom after _diamonds in wine_, but i thought i would try my hand at a shorter and more mature fic. it's a bit different - not action-packed or anything - and it'll be based largely on relationships between various people than actual events. most of the premise of this story has been set up in the first chapter. i know iris seems very fickle, but please give her some patience and time. this kanda will also be a little different, so please bear with me!

hope you enjoyed! please review :)

xoxo,  
m.n


	2. Live to Tell the Tale

**Chapter 2: Live to Tell the Tale**

It took the week to come to terms with it, but after too many mood swings—or they weren't really _swings_ as they were little dips and turns—Kanda finally decided that Iris Fairing was officially _off_.

Off her rocker, out of her mind, _something_.

But he felt like he was the only one who could tell.

Despite his vehement protests, she showed him the fastest route and which shuttles to take to get to Columbia campus. It was on their first commute when Kanda realized the extent to Iris's popularity. Everyone on the bus seemed to know her—she was a laugher, a social butterfly, a model student with a wild and temptress side. Everyone seemed to have benefited from her in some way—tutoring sessions, research partners, even last-minute-party-coordinator.

That was it. She was popular. And it utterly bewildered Kanda. No one else could tell—even when Iris seemed slightly annoyed, when her voice _clearly_ took a turn for the worse and that cold edge appeared in her eyes, no one noticed. It was as if those little subtleties were visible to Kanda, and Kanda alone. And no one else was as…fine, he admitted it—slightly frightened as he was of her.

The only other person who was able to tell was Tyki, but the two of them were dating, which meant that Tyki was equally demented. They were twisted together. And Kanda wanted nothing to do with it.

* * *

"Hey."

Kanda was spacing out in the dining hall, his eyes glazed over one of his books—_Montaigne's Essays_—for his Lit. Hum. class. It was a boring read—he had not absorbed a single word. His food was also terrible. There was nothing better to do than space out.

"_Hey_."

A hand waved in front of his face, and Kanda recoiled immediately, blinking rapidly as he looked up. Iris was standing in front of him, a shade of humor over her face.

"That in love with Montaigne?" she said lightly.

"No," he said curtly, shutting the book and sliding the cover over his take-out box. "Just finished eating."

He stood up to leave. Iris smiled.

"You dislike me that much?"

"No."

"Seriously. The moment you see me on the quad, you turn the other way and just keep walking. What makes you hate me so much?"

"Don't call me out on it."

"I'm too forward, you mean? You're going to have to deal with forward people in the world, you know—might as well start practicing your social skills now—"

"Shut up," he said dangerously.

Iris did not.

"If you can't communicate properly, people won't know how to react to you. They won't know what you want."

"You know exactly what I want."

She smiled wider. "I know. You want me to leave."

"Then _do it._"

"No. Because not everyone can read you. You need to say it."

"Fine," he said angrily. "Go the fuck away."

Her eyes glittered. "Good job."

And then she left.

* * *

Because of Kanda's insistence to run away from Iris whenever he saw her, they did not communicate much in their apartment either. Iris was obviously busy with activities and often did not return to the apartment until late at night, sometimes accompanied by Tyki, who was always impeccably dressed. Exactly what Tyki did to be able to buy so many Armani suits was beyond Kanda.

Iris would always return around midnight, microwave herself some food, and then begin her homework. She did not go out of her way to bother Kanda, nor did she acknowledge his presence when he had to make a trip to the kitchen for food. Whenever those textbooks opened, she entered a fierce mode that none could disturb.

The one time she _did_ look up from her books was when Kanda had walked out of the shower, shirtless so he could let his hair dry, and had gone to the kitchen for water. Iris inclined her head slightly, as if keeping him in her peripheral vision, but then her head snapped up. She did not bother containing her stare.

Kanda shifted uneasily under her scrutiny. He should have known better to walk out shirtless—he always overestimated Iris's interest in her boyfriend—and knew more than well the effect he had on others.

"Oh, my _God._"

"I'm leaving," he said curtly.

She sighed. "And just _how_ did I mistake you for a woman…"

"I dunno," he snarled.

She stood up and approached him. It was always an automatic reaction—Kanda retreated a few steps, causing Iris to raise an eyebrow as she cornered him against the refrigerator.

"I won't touch you, you moron," she said dryly. "You always radiate this 'don't touch me, don't touch me' vibe. I _won't_. I'm just looking."

"I don't want you to _look_," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then don't walk out here like this," she said, reaching past him for the refrigerator door and indirectly—or purposefully—encaging him against the surface.

"Just don't _look_," he snapped. "You ignore me every other time—"

"Kanda," she said, an incredulous grin growing on her face, "What do you think I am—superhuman? I only ignore you when I _can_, and that is when you're _dressed_, and do you know how hard that is already? You're gorgeous, shirt on or not!"

"I never asked for the attention—"

"Well the world never works based on what you ask for, does it, honey?" she said sweetly.

"What are you doing?" he said angrily. "You have a boyfriend—you said you wouldn't _hit on me_—what kind of shameless woman are you—"

"I'm teaching you a lesson," she said, and finally her eyes narrowed and her voice turned a notch lower. "If you don't want people to look, then wear something. If you don't want people to talk to you, then don't make yourself present. If you don't want people to attack you…" She leaned closer so that her voice came breathily right on his bare shoulder, "then don't make yourself vulnerable."

Kanda felt frozen to the ground. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth; why, why, _why_ was his normally-more-than-hot temper completely ineffective against her? His anger was his defense, but how could she could just sidestep it and prod at his insides without fear of retribution?

Iris examined him closely, her eyes flickering back and forth from his eyes to his mouth and then down to his chest and back.

"This is the part where you defend yourself," she suggested, her voice now normal.

"Didn't—" His voice came out hoarsely, and he cleared it to appear stronger. "Didn't you just say—"

"Did you even _hear_ what I was saying?" she said exasperatedly, stepping back at last. "I was spewing the most useless and offensive material of the century. Do you seriously think that it'd be _your_ fault if someone attacked you?"

"…What?"

Iris exhaled, as if he were a child who could not understand one plus one.

"If a girl gets raped, whose fault is it?"

"…The rapist's," said Kanda bluntly.

"What if she was wearing provocative clothing? In fact, what if she was completely topless? Whose fault would it be then?"

Kanda paused. He was still mentally recovering from the fact that his defenses had just been obliterated by a girl barely over five feet.

"It would still be the rapist's," said Iris calmly.

He must have looked confused, for Iris continued to explain with the same patient aura of a teacher lecturing a particularly recalcitrant student.

"Kanda. It is _always_ the rapist's fault, _never_ the victim's. There are some things that the victim can do to protect him or herself better, yes. Walking in the alleys of New York in the middle of the night waving around a thousand dollars will probably get you mugged, so yes, hide the money. But the person who happens to have it visible is not _asking_ to be mugged. Likewise, a girl could maybe decrease her chances of getting attacked if she's smart about what she wears when she knows she's going to be walking around some place sketchy in the middle of the night, _but_," and Iris emphasized this "but" heavily, "she is _never _asking to be attacked. The choice to attack is the attacker's, and the attacker's alone. It is not the victim's fault that there are some sick, twisted, evil people in the world."

Iris finally stepped back, giving Kanda the necessary one-foot-radius circle of personal space necessary for his breathing to finally stabilize.

"What was the point of that?" he demanded, finally regaining his acidic tongue. "What the fuck were you trying to do—"

"Like I said," she interrupted serenely, "I was trying to teach you a lesson. Hold others to the expectation that they should respect your space. _Tell them off_. It's not your fault you're born with a beautiful face, Kanda. If people bother you for it, make sure they know that you're bothered."

"I did try to tell you off!" he said indignantly.

"Ah, well, some people don't listen the first time," she said with a faint smirk. "You'll just have to try a little harder, mm?"

"I hate you," he snapped.

She smiled gently. "You know…surprisingly enough, you're the first person who's ever said that to me."

* * *

So, yes, anyone should've been able to tell that after only a week of living with _that woman_, Kanda certifiably hated her. It was not the same kind of hatred he felt for Lavi at particular moments, or Tyki whenever he swung around with his nice-ass car—no, that was all petty hatred and anger, just because Kanda did not know how to feel anything else. The hatred he felt for Iris was completely different, stemming from his own self-loathing that began to erupt the longer he was around her. He hated how her eyes were shrewd, how her lips could smile but smirk derisively at the same time. He hated how she knew precisely what to do to irritate him best, but not irritate him in the way Lavi did—irritate him in the way that made him feel incredibly vulnerable and…yes, frightened. She could see right through him in a way that no one else could, and it drove him insane. She knew that he was wary of her, and she used it to her full advantage.

Two-face. Two-face. Two-face.

He called her that mentally, every time he saw her laughing with her classmates or chatting with a professor on the quad. She always had a beautiful smile plastered on her face, her brown hair combed perfectly and tucked behind her ears, her clothes without a single mismatch. It was only when Tyki was around that she seemed even close to what Kanda perceived her to be. She was not mean or rude, but she at least exhibited a cool nonchalance around him that she let no one else see.

It was the first Friday of class, and Iris returned home earlier than she normally did, with Tyki in tow.

"Kanda!" she called as she entered. "Kanda!"

"What?" said Kanda irritably from the kitchen.

"Did you eat already?"

He glanced at the clock. It was already nine. Dinner had been over three hours ago.

"Yeah."

"Mm-kay," said Iris, stretching as she appeared in view. "Tyki, make something for us really quick, then we have to start pre-gaming and setting up."

"Setting up?" said Kanda.

"Yeah. Party tonight."

"Where?" he said quickly.

Iris cocked an eyebrow, as if she expected Kanda to know the answer.

"_Here_?" said Kanda disbelievingly.

"Yep."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"I would have—normally," said Iris. "But you said you didn't need any accommodations, so this is me being…well…" She opened her arms in a gesticulating fashion, "unaccommodating."

"Common courtesy—"

"Courtesy? That word exists in your dictionary?"

"Iris," said Tyki chidingly, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. "Give it a rest."

Iris smiled. "I'm just teasing him, Tyki."

"I know, but it's his first weekend here. He probably hasn't even been to a party."

"I can hear you," said Kanda testily. "I'm not a freshman—I went to parties last year. I hated them."

"Yeah, yeah," sighed Iris. "Well, don't get the wrong idea. This is going to be a little classier. People are going to dress up, drink, have a good time. They won't be going apeshit."

"I don't care. You should've run it by me—we're not going to have the party here."

At his adamant response, that familiar cold edge in her eyes appeared, but she seemed genuine when she spoke again.

"Fine. I'll ask to move it." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "See? Just ask. I can be accommodating."

* * *

The list of accommodations grew longer as the weeks progressed. The second addition was made that same day, when Iris and Tyki came back late at night from the party, both of them seriously drunk. Kanda was fast asleep until he began hearing noises coming through the wall. Startled, he sat up in his bed, annoyed as he attempted to decipher what exactly it was.

It took him longer than it should have.

But eventually all the noises became very clear, especially when it sounded like Iris was agreeing very, very loudly and emphatically with something. Tyki's voice was deeper and therefore harder to discern, but when put with the bigger picture, made the same amount of sense that they were clearly having an exceedingly good time with each other.

From a bystander's point of view, the next morning was incredibly amusing.

"Woman!" a very disheveled Kanda shouted as he stumbled into the kitchen. He was sleep-deprived and furious—the noises had only died down after a long, long two hours, and by that time, it was already four in the morning, and then it had taken him another two hours to try and erase his mind of the sounds his scarred ears had had to endure—

Iris and Tyki, both in their bathrobes, turned to him. Iris was at the stove, making pancakes, while Tyki held her from behind. They had been talking in low voices, but stopped upon Kanda's abrupt entrance.

"Yes, honey?" said Iris sweetly.

"Do—not—_honey_—me—we're going to make a fucking long list of accommodations, woman, and the very first one is—_I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR YOU AND YOUR MAN HAVING SEX._"

A stunned silence ensued. While any other person would have blushed, completely mortified, Iris bit her lower lip, as if trying to contain her laughter. This only infuriated Kanda more.

"WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?"

"Please stop shouting," said Iris, trying very hard not to smile.

"NO, WOMAN, NO ONE ELSE WANTS TO HEAR YOU HAVING SEX—IT'S A TWO-PERSON ACTIVITY AND I DON'T WANT TO BE A FUCKING PART OF IT—"

"Oh, you were feeling left out?" said Tyki. "It could be a three-person activity." He looked at Iris contemplatively. "You know, that would be interesting. I could perhaps work him into my schedule. Would you like that, Iris?"

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?"

"He's not, he's not," laughed Iris. "Okay, I'm sorry. It won't happen again—we'll stay over at his place, or do it when you're not home. Now calm the hell down. Have some pancakes."

"I DON'T WANT ANY OF YOUR FUCKING PANCAKES—"

Iris took the opportunity to shove a piece of a finished pancake into Kanda's mouth. It was fresh off the stove and burning hot—Kanda coughed, feeling his life flash before his eyes as he found that he couldn't breathe for a second. The pancake scalded his throat as he swallowed, and after blinking a sudden wetness out of his eyes, Kanda straightened up, his mouth in pain.

"Did I burn your tongue out?" she smiled.

"Sadistic bitch," he snarled.

"Sorry," she said unapologetically. "Go get a glass of milk—the pancakes will be finished in a second. And also, sorry for making you the third wheel in Tyki and my sex romp last night." She leaned up and kissed Tyki on the chin. "We had an amazing time though." Tyki nodded in agreement.

"_I don't give a fuck_."

"Yes, yes," said Iris, sighing. "I know."

* * *

Little things began to come out about Iris that were not exactly unobvious, but merely took some time around her to notice. For example, she adored the color red. Not plain red, but a deep, maroon red. The color of wine. Her nails were always painted that shade, and when Kanda caught a glimpse of her room as she exited it one morning, he saw that the walls were also painted the same color.

She was also an alcoholic. Or perhaps alcoholic was not the right term—wine connoisseur was.

She drank with every dinner—two glasses of wine—and occasionally with lunch whenever she was home for it. When she caught Kanda staring at her empty bottle that she had purchased only two days earlier, she explained.

"I took a wine tasting class last year. I fell in love with it."

Kanda frowned. "But it's…disgusting."

"No. It's rich. Smooth. Delightful. I have another bottle. Want some?"

"No."

She shrugged. "You'll regret that. It's excellent."

The last thing, though, seemed absurd, but Kanda was nearly convinced of it after three weeks of seeing them together.

Iris and Tyki were not a couple.

It was odd, considering that they were together every weekend and sporadically throughout the week. Tyki came over occasionally, and they were constantly texting throughout the day. Yet something about them seemed off. Right from the start, it was as if they had to think a little more when asked about their relationship.

"Anniversary?" said Iris one day as Kanda overheard her and Renee talking in the hallway.

"Yeah," said Renee. "When is it? Don't you guys celebrate your month-a-versaries or whatever?"

"No," chuckled Iris. "No, not at all."

"What? A guy as romantic as Tyki? You guys don't even celebrate each month? How long have you guys been at it?"

"Couple of months," said Iris offhandedly. "It's not a big deal, I'm not that type of person."

"It probably means he's screwing someone else."

"…Hm."

"You're not even _worried_? A man that gorgeous? Women would probably pay to be with him."

"Um…yeah."

"…Are you worried _at all_?"

"No. I mean. Yeah. Of course."

It became clear that Iris and Tyki were strictly friends-with-benefits only when Kanda found out what exactly Tyki did that allowed him to buy a BMW without having a college degree.

It was late on a Thursday night, when Iris was once again studying. Kanda was reading a textbook, bored out of his mind, when suddenly there was a violent knocking on the door. Disturbed and slightly annoyed, Iris looked first up at the clock and then at the door.

"It's nearly midnight. Who the hell's knocking?"

Kanda shrugged. "Don't answer it."

"No…I'm curious."

She stood up and walked over to the door, where she had to step on her tiptoes to look in the peephole.

"Do you know a woman with bright red hair?" she asked him. "Older woman? Maybe almost thirty?"

"No."

"Hm."

Iris unlatched the lock.

"Woman, what are you doing?"

"Just curious as to what she wants."

She opened the door, revealing a tall, evidently rich woman judging from how she was dressed. Iris was right—she did look older than them.

"Iris Fairing?" the woman breathed.

Iris blinked. The woman looked unstable. Kanda stood up slowly—he had a bad feeling about this.

"Yes…?" said Iris.

The _idiot_! Kanda sprinted to the door, but he had been halfway across the room; before he was even close, the woman raised her hand and slapped Iris as hard as she could. Iris surprisingly did not stagger back, though she was clearly stunned with the sudden attack.

"Why you?" the woman cried. "How can he have another woman—why are you the only permanent one? Why do you get to be called the girlfriend?"

Realization dawned on Iris's face, but before she could say anything, Kanda grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. His hand was already on the door and ready to slam it shut when Iris raised a hand, stopping him. She turned her attention to the woman.

"Is this about Tyki?" she asked, placing a hand to her rapidly swelling cheek.

"Of course it is!" the woman said, now effectively sobbing. Kanda caught a whiff of her breath—pungent with alcohol. "Of course it is…why you…there is nothing special about you…_I_ love him, _I do…_"

"Kanda…" said Iris quietly.

"We're calling the police," he said.

"No," she replied. "Go inside, all right? I'll take care of it."

"Are you crazy?" said Kanda indignantly. "She just _slapped_ you—a woman you've never met—"

The woman looked at Kanda curiously, and when she looked back at Kanda, a new rage had supplanted the confusion.

"You have Tyki," she said fiercely. "Why are you living with another man—is Tyki not enough for you?"

"He's my roommate," Iris said calmly. "We're not like that. He's gay."

Kanda was livid. "I am—"

Iris inclined her head back, and her voice grew lower with warning.

"You're. Gay."

Only this woman could actually say that he was gay and get away with it—this bitch…

He cursed under his breath and retreated, but he could not bring himself to leave completely. He resumed his place at the dining table, where he could hear the tidbits of their conversation enough so that if things escalated, he could intervene.

"You know what Tyki does," said Iris. "You shouldn't have expected something genuine from him."

"But you can?" demanded the stranger.

"No. I can't. That's why I don't. And that's why I'm his so-called girlfriend."

"…What do you mean?"

"Tyki is my boyfriend because he's doing me a favor. He is, above anything else, a friend."

"But you sleep with him!"

"As do you," said Iris coolly.

"But you don't have to pay for it, you don't…"

"Tyki has never forced any woman to pay for anything. They do it on their own. It is, effectively, _your_ choice," said Iris coldly.

"But I…" she faltered.

"If you can't deal with it, then don't buy his time. You know what Tyki's like. Besides…" There was a pause. "You can't say anything about Tyki having a girlfriend when you have a husband."

"…How did you know?" she gasped.

"Intuition," said Iris. "I've let you hit me, nor have I called the cops for assault. If you want to get out of here without a scandal offending your clearly rich husband, you'd better go and never come back."

"How dare—"

"_Now_."

Kanda felt the skin on his arms prickle to gooseflesh. No one could miss the threat in Iris's voice now. The side that she so cleverly hid from everyone else now emerged in full-force, and the woman buckled under the power that Iris had suddenly asserted. There was the sound of a quick sob, and then soon after, the sound of heels pattering away. The door shut, and Iris emerged in the kitchen.

"Ice," she said wearily.

Kanda got up from his seat and filled a Ziploc bag with ice from the refrigerator. He tossed it over to her, conscious that he should maintain his distance.

"Thanks," she said, catching it and putting it to her face. She looked at him intently. "I'm guessing you have a lot of questions."

"Yeah," he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the sink counter. "How'd you know she was married?"

"Women like that tend to be. She also had an indentation on her left hand's ring finger. And to pay for Tyki…well," Iris smiled wryly, "they either have to be heiresses and spoiled rotten or unhappily married trophy wives."

"…So what exactly does he do again?" said Kanda acidly.

"Don't use that tone," said Iris. "He's a host."

"A male prostitute. Gigolo."

"A _host_. Escort. Whatever," said Iris. "It's not just sex."

"But you can buy it," muttered Kanda.

"Yeah, you can," said Iris, annoyed. "It's what he does."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Tyki and I don't love each other," she said. "From the start, it's been this way. When I first met him, he was already hosting."

"…Why does he do it?" said Kanda, unable to keep the disdain out of his voice. "He's not desperate for money or anything, is he?"

Iris chuckled. "He's actually from a very well-off family. He does it because he likes it. It's the only thing in life that he is genuinely interested in."

"…Sex?" said Kanda disbelievingly.

"Not just sex," said Iris. "Tyki is the ultimate hedonist."

"The what?"

She gave him an appraising look. "You are never going to survive Columbia humanities if you don't even know what hedonism is…" Kanda only glared at her, to which she smiled and continued to explain. "It's the philosophy that the only good thing about life is pleasure. It's the only thing that fulfills humans. Drives them. The desire for ultimate, complete pleasure. For Tyki, pleasure is, yes, in sex, but it's also in food, wine, cars, comfort. But since he was born in a life of comfort, it's hard for him to derive the same kind of pleasure from material objects. So he indulges in people. Physical touch, yes, but also the power of pleasure in general. Pleasure that overwhelms, consumes him. He gets high from getting pleasure and giving it, be it through sex, or anything else. The slightest date, the ability to make someone feel desire. It's the only thing that makes life interesting for him. He doesn't care about anything—or really, anyone—else."

Kanda took a few seconds to absorb this information. It fit the profile of Tyki well enough, but Kanda could not imagine a life driven by the ephemeral sensation of pleasure. He was about to say this when there was a rapid knocking at the door interspersed with a frantic ringing of the doorbell.

"Iris?" Tyki's voice was easily noticeable, and he sounded anxious. "Iris, are you in there?"

Iris exhaled and stood up. Kanda remained where he was, out of sight but not out of earshot. The door opened, and he heard an audible sigh of relief.

"You're fine," said Tyki. "Sorry, something came up at work and I thought…what the hell happened to your face?"

"One of your customers came by, as I'm sure that's what you mean by something coming up at work," said Iris lightly.

"Shit…are you okay? She _hit_ you?"

"Lovely way of saying hello, I must admit," said Iris.

"Where is she? Did you call the police?"

"No."

"What—_why_?"

Kanda echoed this incredulous demand in his head.

"…Tyki, you knew she was getting unreasonably attached to you. Why didn't you break it off earlier?"

"What—that's not the point—why didn't you call the police?"

"There wasn't a point. She was drunk and angry."

"All the more reason to, Iris. Next time—"

"There better not be a fucking next time, Tyki."

Iris's abrupt antagonism caught Kanda off guard. He froze, scarcely breathing, as he moved slightly closer to hear better. Never had he seen Iris lose her composure with Tyki to this degree—her voice was harsh, demeaning, almost hateful. It was a tone that she had never used with Tyki—the two of them were always more than cordial. Something about the woman from before must have seriously set her off.

"I know how she feels. That's why I didn't call for the police. You know that best," said Iris, clearly snarling.

"You're not like her," said Tyki in a low voice. "You're not pathetic like them—you—"

"I've been that pathetic, Tyki. I'm not like them around _you_ because I don't _love_ you—but if you want to talk about pathetic—I've been that pathetic, I know exactly how they feel and I've definitely imagined how good it must feel to slap every bitch that _he_—"

Iris stopped suddenly, as if she had abruptly remembered that Kanda could still hear. An icy silence followed. Iris seemed to recover herself, but when Tyki spoke next, a derisive sneer had entered his voice.

"You're comparing me to _him_?"

"…You do the same thing," she said frostily.

"Please. I never give these women a chance. The fact that all this involves money makes that clear. Love is not on sale. _He_ is a different story."

"No," snapped Iris. "You do the same thing."

"_I_ don't prey on women half my age—"

"Tyki," said Iris sharply. Her voice connoted warning, implying that Kanda was listening. Tyki caught himself, seemingly understanding.

"I just came by to see if you were okay," he said, and his voice had returned to normal.

"…Thank you," she said gently. "I'm fine."

"…I don't want to see you get hurt. Next time, call _immediately_. I don't care who—the police, me, anyone. I don't want you to be in any danger."

"Don't let there be a next time, Tyki."

"…I understand. I'll stop it before it gets out of control."

"Thanks."

Tyki sighed. "Tomorrow's Friday. I'll see you—"

"I'm busy this weekend."

"…You're still mad at me?"

"No. I'm just busy. Midterms are coming up."

"…Right. Well…"

"I'll see you Sunday night."

Tyki gave a wry chuckle. "Post-weekend refreshment?"

"That sounds delightful."

"All right then. Goodnight, Iris."

"Goodnight."

The door creaked shut. Kanda dared not move until Iris appeared in view, evidently exhausted. She did not offer any explanation, but instead glanced at her open textbook and then the clock. It was nearly one.

"I think I'll call it a night," she said tiredly. "You should head to sleep soon too."

Kanda did not offer any words of comfort. In retrospect, perhaps he should have.

It was the first time he'd felt something for Iris other than resentment or fright.

It was pity.

* * *

Iris's room, as Kanda had previously observed, obviously showcased her abnormal fondness for the color of wine. Her curtains that were currently draped closed over the large window were of the same color as her walls, a deep, rich maroon that connoted a kind of elegance and simultaneous dark secrecy. Her closet did not have as much red as she would have liked, but that was only because she saved red apparel—any shade of scarlet, wine, crimson—for special occasions. Very special occasions.

Nestled against the drawn curtains was a long window counter, where Iris had neatly organized the typical amenities that a college student's room normally displayed. Picture frames nicely lined up of "good times" in freshman year, "better times" in sophomore year, though none from junior year, and none of her and Tyki; the souvenirs and trinkets from trips abroad—key chains and magnets, postcards and snow globes. Yet placed firmly in the center of all these gadgets, as if stating obstinately that it was incredibly out of place, was a wine bottle. It was an exquisitely beautiful bottle, of crimson glass and fashioned into the shape of a swan with a gracefully curved neck and elegantly round base. The swan's mouth was open, and this was where a solid glass cork was placed. It was an evidently expensive thing, unbefitting of Iris's other un-extraordinary decorations, but it was by far her most cherished.

Every morning, when Iris would open the curtains and allow sunshine to filter into her room, the bottle lit up, almost sparkling with the warmth of the light that liquefied in it. Iris would look at the bottle, her gaze gentle and kind, and then as if her body were moving on its own, her hand would stroke the neck of the swan. Her thin fingers down the smooth glass. She would bite her lower lip—a weakness that never left her room. She would close her eyes, thinking, wishing. But her fingers would always feel cold. And the glass would never grow warm.

* * *

The week following the incident with Tyki's lover-slash-customer, Kanda could tell that Iris was struggling to maintain appearances. She talked less, did not jibe at him as she normally did, and instead would fall into a quiet pensiveness that took Kanda several attempts to break. She lost the drive to work, to study. She returned to the apartment early in the evenings, toss aside her book bag, eat barely anything, and then retreat to her room without another word.

"Iris here?" asked Tyki when Kanda opened the door one Friday night. "She bailed on me last Sunday, and I thought I would lay low for a while…but she hasn't contacted me this week. Is she still angry?"

"Dunno," said Kanda bluntly.

"…Have you talked to her?" said Tyki incredulously.

Kanda thought about it for a moment. "No."

"All week? You guys didn't talk?"

"If by talk, you meant not talking, then—"

"I get it," said Tyki shortly, brushing past Kanda. "Iris. Iris!"

"I'm here," said Iris tiredly, stepping from the corridor that led to their bedrooms. "I'm fine. What do you want?"

"Let's talk," said Tyki firmly as he shut the door behind him.

"I'm fine," she said a tad coolly. "Seriously. You're underestimating me."

"Then tell me why you haven't tormented your roommate all week."

Kanda bristled. "_Torment_? You do that on purpose?"

"Oh, shut up," said Iris dryly, regaining some of her normal superiority. "It's not like you didn't know it was on purpose."

"So again, why haven't you been normal?" said Tyki.

Iris shrugged. "I've been feeling…generous."

Tyki scoffed. "Right. And the last time you felt 'generous,' you ended up in bed with me."

"Oh. Yeah. Hey, Kanda. Let's go have sex."

The train of conversation had long left Kanda's field of vision. _"What_?"

"I get it," said Tyki curtly. "Fine. I'm checking up on you."

"You know I never ask for it, babe," she said with a quick smile.

"Heaven knows you need it," muttered Tyki, though he looked relieved at her recovery. "Fine, I'm getting the feeling you won't be needing me around this weekend. Kanda, accompany her. Keep her entertained."

"What am I, for sale? No, I have stuff to do."

"Like what?" said Iris, surprised.

Kanda scowled. "Homework."

"I'll help you with it. I actually wanted to go into the city tomorrow—take a stroll in the park, eat some hotdogs. You should come."

"No."

"Kanda, I'm feeling generous, meaning I won't torment you _and_ I've offered to help you with homework. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Take it," she said, her voice sugary with illicit threat.

He wanted to say no.

He really, truthfully did.

"Fine," he grumbled.

Iris strode over to him and before Kanda could process, pecked him on the cheek.

The reaction was instantaneous—Kanda bolted backward, nearly stumbling over one of the high-top counter chairs, retreating as fast as he could. In the milliseconds of movement, his heartbeat had escalated twofold and he was breathing harshly, all senses hyperaware, his vision fixated on Iris, target and assailant.

Tyki looked startled with Kanda's reaction, but Iris—_damn bitch_—did not look fazed in the slightest. An odd smile played at her lips and she seemed satisfied with some confirmation she had just made.

"You okay there, man?" asked Tyki.

Kanda nodded violently.

"Sorry, dear, I just meant to say thanks," said Iris. She turned to Tyki. "I'm fine, babe. I'm going to do some homework and then have a wonderful date with Kanda tomorrow." She leaned up and kissed Tyki fully on the lips.

"Mm…yeah," he murmured. With one final curious look at Kanda, Tyki left, leaving Kanda and the crazy bitch alone.

"Sorry," she said again. "Let me know when you want help, okay? I'll be in my room."

She waved and left, much to his relief. Only when the door to her room closed did Kanda manage to exhale fully and attempt to calm himself down. He sat down in the chair he had just nearly knocked over, breathing in deeply.

He was an idiot to have actually felt bad for her.

The real Iris Fairing was back.

* * *

"So," said Lavi, his face grainy in the screenshot but his grin noticeable from light years away, "how's it going with your super hot roommate?"

"Don't talk about her," snarled Kanda. "I. Hate. Her."

"You hate the world, Yuu—"

"No," said Kanda. "This is for real."

The wide smile on Lavi's face slipped away, replaced by serious concern. "…Has she done anything to you?"

"No," said Kanda defensively, trying not to think about the kiss that he had clearly overreacted about the previous day. "Not…actually _done_ anything, but she…she can see through me. And I don't know why. And…"

His voice trailed off. He was unwilling to say anything further and instead settled for a stony glare at the camera. Lavi understood.

"She's like me," said Lavi simply. "She gets you. Only I don't genuinely poke at your weaknesses. Right?"

"Something…" His voice sounded weak. He cleared it and averted his eyes. "Something like that."

"Kanda, if it's that uncomfortable, move out."

"I don't have—"

"Your old man will find you a place," said Lavi seriously. "Hell, _I'll_ find you a place. You could even live with Lenalee or something if you'd be willing to commute from lower Manhattan—but if it's—"

"It's not that bad," said Kanda. "She hasn't done anything. She's not…she's not the type who would."

"How do you know for sure?"

"Because…she gets a kick out of watching me squirm," said Kanda, every word coming out of his mouth with the same amount of effort it took him to haul a hundred pounds of rice up the staircase, "but…she doesn't like watching me suffer."

"…Eh?"

"I don't know," said Kanda, frustrated. "I don't get her. But I know that's what she's like."

Lavi looked dubious. "But if it's still making you uncomfortable—"

"I'm going to figure her out," said Kanda stubbornly. "She wants me to go on some stupid date with her today—I'm going to spend the day figuring out exactly what makes her demented mind work."

"…Let me get this straight. You're going to spend the day with a woman you hate for…no particular reason. Charming."

"She wanted me to go, I can't say no—"

"Uh, why?"

"Because!" said Kanda angrily. "She does that! She does that thing where "_no_" is not an option even though it fucking should be one—but I'm not going to lose just because she's a psychotic, crazy bitch who just—"

A knock at his door cut him off, and before he said anything, the door opened and Iris, dressed in a perfect "I'm-on-an-expenditure" outfit, fedora and all, waltzed in his room.

"Who's a psychotic, crazy bitch?" she smiled.

"You," said Kanda frankly.

"That's harsh," she said, un-offended. "Who are you Skyping—ooh, hey, your friend is _cute_. What's your name?"

Lavi's expression had molted into an affable one. Iris was the first person Kanda had met who could rival Lavi in his capabilities as a social chameleon.

"Lavi Bookman," grinned Lavi. "Of course, I already know you. The infamous Iris Fairing. I already stalked you on Facebook."

"Ooh, a man who can utilize social media. I like that."

_The fuck_? thought Kanda. Any other person would've called it stalking and creepy.

"At least that proves you're competent with integration into society and keeping up with the technological age. Unlike this one here." Iris inclined her head towards Kanda. "He hasn't updated his profile picture since two years ago. And it's not even of him."

"I know, right?" said Lavi. "It's utterly ridiculous. That's why I stalked you instead—you're much more active online. But damn, Facebook's sad pixilation didn't do you any justice. If I didn't have a girlfriend, I'd go for you."

"You sure your girlfriend would mind if you did anyway?"

"Nah, she would. Actually, she'd mind even if you went for Kanda, since the two of them are childhood friends."

"Friends?" said Iris, laughing. "I can't believe Kanda has friends at all. Not with that personality of his."

"Oh, I'm sure you've realized by now—he's all rough on the outside, but on the inside, he's the cutest, fluffiest little teddy bear named _Yuu_—"

"Lavi, I will rip your heart out if you don't shut up—"

"Yeah, good luck swimming across the ocean to get to me," said Lavi dryly. "But anyway, Kanda tells me you guys are going out to the city today?"

"Yeah," said Iris, patting the rim of her fedora. "We're going to have fun."

"Mind if Lenalee joins you guys?" asked Lavi casually. "She's been meaning to see Kanda and wanted to this weekend since her midterms just finished."

The way Lavi said it left hardly any room for a "no." He did not pose it as a question but more of a request than anything. Iris's eyes narrowed infinitesimally—finally, about time she noticed that Lavi was not all fun and games—but she smiled.

"Certainly. I'd love to meet her."

Lavi returned the smile. "Brilliant. You're good to go, Kanda. Date with two hot girls. Man couldn't be any luckier."

Kanda got the message.

_Watch yourself_.

* * *

They met Lenalee at Central Park. Iris had been quite kind on the way there—no unnecessary remarks, no awkward situations, no purposeful attempts to irritate him. The day was beautiful, sunny, crisp, and slightly cold; the notorious Northern winter was beginning on a good note. Iris tucked her hair under her fedora and straightened out her jacket and purse as they waited for Lenalee.

"…So what's this girl like?" asked Iris.

"Lenalee?"

Iris nodded.

"She's…annoying," said Kanda. "Talks a lot. Really happy all the time."

"Oh. How'd you two meet?"

"We were kids."

"School?"

"No. Orphanage."

"…You're adopted?" said Iris, surprised.

"My old man's white—you do the math."

"Oh. So…were you two adopted together or…?"

"No. Lenalee has an older brother who turned eighteen and became her legal guardian."

"Ah…I see."

"…She's here."

Lenalee waved at them and made her way over. Iris met Lenalee with a silent delight—indeed, no one could really turn Lenalee down—and Kanda even had to admit that he was relieved to see her. Lenalee was one of the few women that Kanda could actually concede was attractive—in and out. Lavi was lucky that Kanda had been his friend before he'd become Lenalee's boyfriend, or else Kanda would've murdered the living shit out of him. Lenalee waved them down towards her, her attire the epitome of high fashion. Lenalee's older brother was the Department Head for Marketing and Advertisement of Apple Headquarters, and he spoiled Lenalee rotten—or at least, he would have had Lenalee not been so intrinsically kind. Still, having a doting rich brother meant that Lenalee had never had a problem with money, which explained how everything she was wearing now looked like it had come straight from a Louis Vuitton advertisement.

"Kanda!" said Lenalee, giving him a hug that lasted the maximum length he could stand with physical contact. She knew him too well. "How've you been? How's the semester? How're you adjusting? Is it better than NYU?"

"Yeah," he said offhandedly. "It's fine."

"Your roommate?" said Lenalee, looking over at Iris. "Hi, Lavi told me your name was Iris?"

Which meant Lavi had told Lenalee that Iris was someone to watch more carefully. Kanda wondered if Iris already knew how wary they were of her.

"Yeah," said Iris, extending a hand. "And you're…Lenalee?"

"Yeah!" said Lenalee, shaking her hand enthusiastically as she studied Iris more closely. "Say…I could be wrong, but I came to Columbia Dance Club's showcase last year. Were you…?"

Iris looked slightly taken aback by the inquiry, but she nodded. "Yeah. I did salsa for a while. More into yoga now though."

"Oh, why? It's such a shame—I loved your performance. You were the last duet too, right? And the lead? It was so sexy!"

"Yeah…" said Iris, somewhat abashed. "I gave up salsa last semester…it was…" Her voice trailed off, but she recovered herself. "It just got too time-consuming."

"I can totally empathize," laughed Lenalee. "I hear junior year is so hard, and now I'm already freaked out about it, trying to figure out what to drop and whatnot—"

"Women," said Kanda. "Can we get a move on?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry Kanda!"

"Sorry, teddy-bear _Yuu," _said Iris mockingly.

And there was the unnecessary remark.

"Woman—"

"Kanda," scolded Lenalee. "Don't call people that—it's rude. Her name is _Iris_. Use it."

"It's fine," said Iris. "'Woman' is better than 'psychotic bitch.'"

"Kanda!" exclaimed Lenalee, aghast.

"Don't pretend you're all sweet in front of Lenalee," snapped Kanda. "You know you're a crazy—_ow_, Lenalee!"

Lenalee had promptly cuffed him across the head.

"Lavi told me everything," she said to him in an undertone, "but that does not warrant any rudeness on your part. _Stop_."

"Fine," snarled Kanda. "Where are we going?"

"I just wanted hotdogs," said Iris nonchalantly. "And a stroll."

"Sorry…" said Lenalee. "I can't eat hotdogs—I get a stomachache when I do."

"I hate them," said Kanda.

"It's okay, I'll just grab one and we can go wherever you guys want to go," said Iris pleasantly. "Be right back."

She trotted away, leaving Kanda finally alone with Lenalee. He turned to her rapidly.

"So?" he said. "I'm not crazy, right? You get the same vibe?"

"Not…really?" said Lenalee honestly. "She seems…well, normal."

Kanda groaned. "It's all just fake—just keep watching her. I guarantee you she'll slip at some point. I generally manage to piss her off in some way—you'll see."

"I believe you," said Lenalee simply. "She must do a good job hiding things."

"Believe me," muttered Kanda under his breath, "she's like an entirely different person when she's annoyed."

"I bet…I—"

A raucous laughter cut Lenalee off. The two of them turned around to see a group of teenagers moving as one cohesive unit—Kanda didn't know how he hadn't seem them sooner. The group was enormous, with the outer circle consisting of teenage girls with their iPhones out, recording something that was happening in the middle. A gang of boys circled the center, and the loud chant echoed in the air.

"Miranda, Miranda, unlucky Miranda, you're so useless, you can't do shit—"

The girls broke off giggling as the boys howled in glee. Lenalee touched Kanda's arm.

"Kanda, there's someone—are they herding someone?"

"I dunno," said Kanda coolly. He glanced around—the crowd was attracting stares, but no one made any movement to do anything. "I'll break it up."

"Wait, I'll come too—"

"It's a bunch of teenagers, Lenalee. Stay put. I can take care of it."

Kanda, contrary to how he acted around Iris, was not weak. After a series of incidents when he was younger, he had long grown averse to the fact that he was constantly viewed as some extremely pretty specimen who could only sit there and be admired. He worked out frequently, had excellent reflexes, and was nationally ranked in judo and karate—he felt not even the barest trepidation as he dove straight into the crowd.

"Hey—_hey,_ what are you doing?"

"Get out of here—it's none of your business—"

"Move," shouted Kanda, pushing the girl to his right aside. She tripped over her heels and toppled over, crashing into the next girl and creating a cascading domino effect. He ignored the screaming girls and forced his way to the center, where he grabbed the first guy he could see by the collar and tossed him out of the circle.

The chant of "Miranda, Miranda" dissipated only slightly as Kanda began to throw the teenagers out of his way until he got to the heart of the horde. A young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, was crouched on the ground, her head on her knees and her hands pressed firmly against her ears. Kanda pushed his way to her and grabbed her by the arm. She looked up at him, clearly sobbing.

"Stop," she cried, "I didn't do anything—"

"Oi," he shouted. "What are you doing? Get up!"

"S-stop chanting—"

"I'm not chanting anything, woman!" bellowed Kanda. "Get up—"

He yanked her to her feet, and as he did, the crowd parted slightly and he caught sight of Iris. She was standing on the outskirts of the group—he wished he had a phone or a way to tell Lenalee to look at Iris now, for there was no way in hell that Iris's expression was anywhere near normal. She was smirking haughtily, her hand balancing a hotdog as she leaned against a bench passively. There was no denying it—she was enjoying the show.

Kanda had no time to dwell on his maniac of a roommate.

"Hey, what are you doing?" a brat behind him demanded.

Kanda turned around. These kids were no older than fourteen or fifteen—the idiot who was behind Kanda looked like the ringleader, for once he waved his hand, the chanting disappeared instantly.

"Get up," said Kanda to the woman. "We're leaving."

"B-But I-I can't—"

"Yeah," said the boy obstinately. "She's our teacher—we're going to be lost if she—"

"She's your _teacher_?" exclaimed Lenalee, fighting her way to Kanda. He frowned at her—did she not understand what "Stay put" meant? Komui would kill him if Lenalee got hurt.

"What kind of students _are_ you?" she said angrily. "Why are you—_she is your teacher_! Show some respect!"

"Miranda doesn't deserve any respect," sneered the kid. "She's _useless_. She doesn't know anything that's going on—she's just a poor woman who can't possibly teach _us_. We're the smartest kids in the city and—"

"It doesn't matter if you're the smartest kids in the city," snapped Lenalee. "You cannot do this to your own teacher."

"What do _you_ know?" he smirked. "You don't even know who we are—all our parents work on Wall Street and have tons and tons of money—we can do whatever we want and—"

Kanda grabbed the boy by his collar and lifted him effortlessly up in the air.

"So what?" he said icily. "You want to call your lawyer? Go ahead, do it now. But I guarantee you—by the time your lawyer gets here, you're going to have two black eyes, no teeth, and half your ribs broken. I'll also have smashed every person's iPhone here and be gone—good luck trying to find me."

"You bastard—"

"You wanna go?" said Kanda coolly.

Finally, he could see fear in the brat's eyes.

"N-no," he stammered. "Let me down—we'll leave."

Kanda obliged, but the moment he did, the idiot turned around and bellowed,

"Who's got that on their phone? Send it to your parents now and—"

"It's too late." The crowd parted, revealing Iris, eating her hotdog as neatly as hotdogs could be eaten, while she handed a white phone back to the nearest girl. "I've erased them all."

The boy was incensed. "And you just _gave_ them all over to her?"

"Don't be angry with them," said Iris smoothly. "I have pepper spray. After a brief demonstration of just how painful it is, the others just offered their phones to me after that. Now…" She stepped in front of the boy and looked up at him. Iris's height was somewhat pathetic, but unsurprisingly to Kanda, the boy recoiled at her glare. "You are going to go home. You are going to write a letter of apology to your school, teacher, and parents for being little ingrates who can only hide behind your parents' money. Now, I know you're thinking that you won't, and instead you'll call Mommy and Daddy to get their lawyer on the phone. Well, sweetheart…" Iris smiled, "you're not the only one with connections. And this big sister here has lots of connections, except they involve lots of bad men with guns who have a penchant for killing little kids when this big sister asks." Iris's smile grew worse. "Now…time to go home, I think?"

"You don't have to ask me twice—go, go, go!"

The kid darted past Iris and his friends followed right after. Finally, the crowd dispersed, leaving the four of them alone, subject to the stares of many onlookers. Iris ignored them and crumpled up the plastic wrapping that her hotdog had come in.

"I'm going home," she said calmly.

"W-wait," said Miranda, struggling to recompose herself. "T-Thank you—"

"I didn't mean to help you," said Iris coldly. "Had Kanda and Lenalee not interfered, I would've just let them continue tormenting you."

Kanda bristled. "Then why—"

"I did it to help you," she interrupted. "And now that that's been accomplished, I'm going to go. I have no desire to help out trash that can't even keep a class of spoiled kids under control."

Lenalee looked stricken at what had just come out of Iris's mouth, and fresh tears leaked out of Miranda's eyes, but Kanda was not surprised. Yet while he had expected to feel some satisfaction, having finally proved to Lenalee what Iris was really like, he instead felt…

He didn't know exactly.

Why was some pity mixed in with his curiosity?

"Kanda?" said Lenalee hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to take Miss Miranda to Starbucks for some coffee and to talk. Um…why don't you accompany Iris back?"

Kanda stared at her. Did she not understand that the whole point of her coming along was precisely so Iris didn't torment _him_ any?

Lenalee seemed to know, but instead shook her head and mouthed, "It's okay."

Kanda frowned but nodded. Lenalee seemed to have picked up on something that he hadn't—she had good intuition, so perhaps…he glanced at Iris, who looked morbidly bored.

"Fine," he said unenthusiastically.

"You don't need to," said Iris. "Lenalee came all the way here and you—"

"Move, woman," he growled, pushing her in the opposite direction.

"Kanda," said Lenalee warningly.

"Fine, _move_, Iris."

"Ooh," said Iris, her mood recovered, "I don't think you've ever called me my name. It's quite lovely in that deep voice of yours—"

"Woman!"

"And now, I will stop harassing you—"

"W-Wait!"

Kanda and Iris turned around. Miranda extended her hand tremulously.

"M-My name is Miranda Lotte. Thank you…for before."

Kanda nodded and shook her hand.

"T-Thank you, um…Kanda, was it? Um…I will leave my number with this young lady here—if I could take you two out to dinner as thank you—"

"Don't need it," said Kanda brusquely. "I did it because I felt like it, not because I wanted a thank you."

"It's fine," said Lenalee gently. "I'll let him know. Let's go, Miss Miranda."

Kanda turned the other way and guided Iris away—or was it she guiding him? He didn't understand himself. Why _didn't_ he feel angry with her? The image of Iris, superior and sadistic as she'd watched Miranda get bullied, was emblazoned in Kanda's eyes, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that behind all that arrogance, Iris was feeling something different entirely.

Kanda's phone vibrated. It was a text message from Lenalee.

_Lavi said you wanted to figure out exactly what made Iris's mind work. I got you guys to be alone because right now, she's vulnerable. Good luck_.

So Lenalee had noticed. But what did she expect him to do? He was not a talker. He wasn't supposed to be able to make people open up.

They walked in silence along the park's sidewalk, in which Kanda spent the good majority trying to dislodge his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

"If you have a question, ask," said Iris as they sidestepped a couple with their dog.

Damn. He was way too readable.

"Why didn't you help that woman?" asked Kanda. "I saw you—you were laughing."

"And now you think I'm a terrible person."

"I've always thought that," said Kanda candidly.

"…Touché. I guess I don't make a very good impression on you."

"But you…" Kanda caught himself, which caused Iris to arch an eyebrow at him.

"Kanda, you don't seem to be the kind of person who holds back on what comes out of your mouth. So why so shy with me?"

_Because, for some fucking weird reason,_ he thought darkly,_ I can't predict how you'll react, and if I offend you, I feel like you'd kill me._

"You scared of me?" she guessed.

"No," he said immediately.

"Yeah, you are. But for some reason, you can't stop thinking about me."

"Get a hold of yourself, woman—"

"But it's true, right? You want to figure me out. You want to understand why exactly I act the way I do—perfect on campus, in front of profs or other students. You want to know why I'm like this with _you_—intimidating and, for lack of a better word, mean."

Kanda remained silent.

"But honestly, Kanda, I don't dislike you. The more I hate someone, the more fake I am around them. Which means with you…" she glanced at him. "I like you quite a bit."

"Then why do you always…" He cast his mental net for the right words, "do things that piss me off?"

"Piss you off, or make you feel uncomfortable?"

"Both," he said shortly.

"Because I…hm," she said pensively. "Can we come back to this question later?"

"What?"

"I'll answer your first one instead. Why I didn't help that woman. Why I called her 'trash.'" Iris smiled at a young mother with her daughter passing by. "Because in this world, everyone is trash. There's two kinds of trash: the kind that bullies others, and the kind that lets themselves get bullied."

Kanda felt his heart stop momentarily—shit, they were treading into territory that once they mired into, he would have a very difficult time getting out of without giving anything away. Yet for once, it seemed like Iris was not watching him. Her eyes had grown hard, and when she spoke, her voice was flat.

"She was lucky. People stepped in to help her. But she should know damn well that most of the time, that never happens. Other people don't give a shit about you. In this world, you can rely on yourself, and yourself alone. Friends? Bullshit. The moment they get in danger, they'll hightail out of there and join the kind of trash that bullies right along with the rest—you can only go from one kind of trash to another."

Kanda had long stopped walking. Iris turned around to face him.

"Sorry," she said. "Did I scare you?"

"…Were you bullied?" he asked. The image contrasted so much with the image of Iris he had that he almost wanted to laugh. Iris, bullied? The woman was a monster.

"…What do you think?"

Why the back-and-forth? Why couldn't she just answer for once?

"Yes," he said.

"You don't think I was the bully?"

"No." But he had no idea why.

Iris smiled. "You're right. I was bullied. All throughout middle and the beginning of high school." She turned around and resumed walking. Kanda followed her. "There are regular bullies, and then there are the bullies that grow up to be the psychopathic liars and killers we always hear about on the news. Those were my bullies." Iris grew quiet for a few seconds, her gaze glossy. "Rich. Spoiled. I went to a private school in upstate New York my parents could barely afford. All their parents were lawyers, CEOs, bankers. My parents were only restaurant owners. I was picked out from day one. Kid without the latest Chanel bag."

"Things were rudimentary at first," she continued. "I was their bitch—go get the papers, notes, assignments from teachers. Do the homework and let us copy it. We get caught cheating? You take the blame. Pretty standard. But then…by high school, they started bringing boys into the picture. Sex, booze, drugs. It got out of control. I had to do things I…didn't want to." She let out a breath. "Teachers knew, of course. It was common knowledge. They didn't do anything about it—they're like that teacher you just saved. Powerless, stupid, unwilling to put their job on the line when it comes to dealing with kids whose parents are so rich, they could crush them without a second thought. One mere girl who had nothing was…well, nothing. It took me six years to realize that no one was going to help. That I wasn't going to become anything else if I just let myself get bullied all the time."

She fell silent. Kanda was devouring every word—that didn't explain everything—what had she done—

"…Then what happened?" said Kanda, careful not to sound too eager.

"…End of sophomore year. I nearly bit off this girl's finger when she was trying to shove paper down my throat. Almost stabbed her eye out with a pencil. And the guy who was fucking me? Gave him an tattoo with an ink pen and lots of blood."

Kanda felt somewhat sick, but he didn't know why. Maybe it was the story itself. The shattered image of Iris. Or the fact that she was telling him this with a tone where fond recollection was undeniable.

"Parents pulled me out of school then, after I'd told them why I did it. I couldn't stand the fact that we never got an apology, but instead got a shit ton of money from one of the parents because I had video proof of what had happened. But hey. Whatever. It was enough to send me to Columbia. Last two years of high school was when I became like this. Pleased everybody. Became one of the popular kids. It did wonders for my life."

Iris looked back at him, her gaze meeting his head-on.

"So there you have it. Iris Fairing's life in a nutshell."

Kanda didn't reply. Iris studied him closely, her eyes scrutinizing him.

"…Why do I feel like you're pitying me?" she said.

"I'm…" He looked away from her. "I'm not."

She stepped in front of him, forcing him to make eye contact.

"You don't need to," she said. Her voice was the gentlest she'd ever used with him. "…You know why I stepped in? Even though I didn't really give a damn for that Miranda woman?"

"…No."

"It really was because of you. Because…I have a good idea of why you stepped in. And sometimes...I'm jealous. Just a little. Of the fact that somehow…you came out better than me." Iris smiled. "So yeah. You have your answers. Go mull on them for a bit. See if you can finally figure me out."

* * *

Later that night, Tyki came over after his work finished. The three of them ate dinner together, with the conversation primarily centered between Iris and Tyki, as always. Kanda was slightly moodier and less talkative, and while Tyki noticed, he waited until Iris had left them alone to even bother speaking to Kanda. Something about Kanda made it rather obvious that tonight was not a good night to press his buttons.

By the time Tyki and Iris were alone, it was nearing midnight. Iris was finishing up some reading for lab and Kanda had retired to sleep. The two of them had not spoken much after they'd returned from the park. She could tell that she had confused Kanda terribly, and while she felt bad, she also claimed a kind of satisfactory victory. Kanda was an extremely easy person to manipulate, and quite honestly, she could read him like an open book.

"Hey, babe," said Tyki, his arms slinking around Iris's waist.

"Hey. How was work?"

"Great. Like my watch?" He dangled his left arm in front of her.

"Another Rolex?"

"Yep."

"What happened to the other…three?"

"Sold them. I rather like this one though."

"It's nice," she admitted, returning to the article she was reading.

"So you and Kanda had a good date?"

"No, not really."

"Mm. He said something about you being bullied in middle school?"

Iris's fingers froze over the edge of the page. She had not expected Kanda to tell Tyki anything. Perhaps the poor boy had been so confused that he just ranted at the first opportunity.

"Doesn't sound like you," said Tyki.

"It doesn't, does it?" she said evasively.

"You sure it's not a story you just made up to get on Kanda's good side?" suggested Tyki lightly.

Iris smirked. "Perhaps."

"Of course." He toyed with a strand of her hair. "You, getting bullied?" He kissed her cheek. "Who the hell would think of that?"

"Dunno," she smiled. "There's always just some crazy people in the world."

* * *

_free talk:_

as always, i am incredibly humbled by the degree of response. thank you to both old and new readers for your time. :)

iris is the most morally ambiguous character i've written yet. i'm being very experimental this time around, with iris, tyki, and especially with kanda. this chapter definitely showcases the different aspects of kanda i am trying to portray, and while i know he may seem weak, i think it is a portrayal that fits him all the same. he is, after all, at least not indestructible, even in canon.

it is up to the reader to decide whether or not iris was lying. she is, admittedly, a little frightening. i hope you can give her as much love as you can though. her backstory (especially if you believe what she told kanda) is not a happy one. you will see as we go on.

i am not planning on this fic to be another lengthy one like _diamonds in wine._ after realizing that most of my fics were ridiculously long, i'm trying my hand at a less-than-twenty-chapter fic. let's hope it works!

please leave a review with your thoughts. :)

xoxo,  
m.n


	3. The Reeling

**Chapter 3: The Reeling**

"Bullshit," was the first thing Lavi said to Kanda when Kanda told him about Iris's supposed history.

"…You think so?" said Kanda.

"You believe her?"

"…She wasn't normal," said Kanda half-heartedly. "I don't believe her completely but…"

Lavi sighed. "Kanda, you're too nice."

"Nice?" sputtered Kanda. "Who the hell are you talking about? Even _I_ know I'm not _nice_—"

"What, does 'naïve' sound better?" said Lavi dryly. "You can't just go believing her blindly—weren't you the one who called her psychotic and crazy?"

"Yeah, but—"

"I think Kanda's right," piped up Lenalee in her window of the group chat.

"Lenalee, that's just because you're too nice."

"No, Iris was very vulnerable after that incident," she said. "I could tell. Even if what she said wasn't entirely true, there has to be significance to what she told Kanda. I don't think she could lie that easily."

"Fine," said Lavi reluctantly. "Let's say what she told him was partially true. So what? It doesn't excuse her tormenting Kanda."

"Don't make it sound like I'm some helpless victim," snapped Kanda.

"What else am I supposed to say—she's annoying you? _I _do that, and I don't make you feel that uncomfortable unless I'm lonely and want to cuddle—"

"Is the part of your brain that tells you to shut up defective?"

"I dunno, maybe that's why I'm a genius—"

"Kanda, give it a rest," smiled Lenalee. "Lavi, stop being silly."

"Anything for you, babe."

Kanda barfed a little on the inside.

"Look, Kanda, don't worry too much about Iris, okay? She doesn't seem like the type who would actually hurt anyone."

_But you can only go from one kind of trash to the other_, thought Kanda bitterly. And if that was true, then it was completely likely that Iris would hurt someone.

There was a banging sound on the other side of his wall and a noise that sounded something along the lines of a moan.

Lenalee blushed. "What was that?"

"Guess," retorted Kanda. "Why do you think I'm talking to you two at three in the morning?"

"Man, how long have they been at it?" said Lavi, genuinely curious. "They must have amazing stamina."

"I dunno, couple of hours, but the guy's a host or whatever so I guess it's part of his job—"

"I'm out," said Lenalee, now blushing to the roots of her hair. "Goodnight, guys.'

She logged out without another word. Lavi chuckled.

"She's so cute. Too bad she's so innocent. Then we could—"

"Another word from you, Lavi Bookman, and I'll rip your head off. Or I'll tell Komui, and he'll do the job for me."

For once, Lavi seemed frightened by the threat. "Okay. Shutting up."

A pause.

"Kanda?"

"What."

"…Please don't tell Komui."

* * *

"What," snapped Kanda the instant he stormed into the kitchen the next morning, "is accommodation number one again?"

Iris looked across the table to Tyki, who smirked as he drank his coffee and continued reading the paper silently. She looked back up to Kanda guiltily.

"Sorry," she said, eating her yogurt delicately. "We got…um…carried away last night."

"And finally," grinned Tyki from behind the sports section of the New York Times, "I have made _the_ Iris Fairing blush."

"Shut up, it was new."

"Yes, and you enjoyed it _immensely_."

"Yeah, I could hear," snarled Kanda, stomping to the refrigerator for the leftover waffles Iris had made the previous day. "And I told you, _I don't want to hear it._"

"You're not curious as to what the new things are?" asked Iris, scooping up the rest of the granola.

"Not in the slightest."

"Handcuffs," she smiled.

Kanda willed himself not to stiffen.

"Great," he snapped. "You guys are kinky and crazy."

"It was good," she said in a sing-song voice, much closer to him than he'd expected. Kanda moved slightly away, as was always his reaction when Iris came too close for comfort.

"I don't care," he seethed.

Iris shrugged and set her bowl down in the sink.

"You don't find it…exciting?" she whispered in his ear. "Being tied up?"

"Get the fuck away from me," he said through gritted teeth.

She knew she was treading into territory he wanted to avoid. It was as if yesterday had never happened; Iris, vulnerable? No, she was in her element now, in control, and she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Ah-ah," she said, resting her hand on his shoulder. "C'mon…you're not in the slightest…curious?" Something cold, metallic, and unbearably familiar touched Kanda's wrist—there was a clicking sound and something snapped inside of him. He retaliated without thinking, his hands moving on their own as they grabbed Iris by the collar and slammed her against the refrigerator door—his fingers crawled up to her neck, he was choking her—_Yuu, you are just too pretty_—his grip tightened; he was going to kill her—_make it go away_—

Someone's arm encaged Kanda's neck and pulled him roughly back, forcing him to let go of Iris—she slumped to the ground, gasping for air, her face deathly white—it was Tyki who had stopped him, and given his height and build, he was much stronger than Kanda.

"What the fuck are you doing?" demanded Tyki.

"N-No," gasped Iris. "L-Let him go—"

"Iris, he just choked you for no reason!"

"Let him go," said Iris, clearly winded and struggling to recover—she was having difficulty getting to her feet and the imprints on her neck were deep and reddening. "Tyki, please, it was my fault—"

Tyki obliged, finally letting Kanda free. Kanda stumbled backward, as far away as the kitchen counters would allow. He was having difficulty breathing—he didn't know what had just overcome him, but even as he looked at Iris now, he did not regret it one bit. The sensation that had overwhelmed him—he had wanted nothing more than to choke every last breath out of her because she deserved it completely. Iris's eyes were wet, but she wasn't crying, she was just recovering. Tyki eased her up, completely bewildered but she waved him away.

"Kanda," she said breathlessly, taking a step towards him.

"Don't you dare move," he snarled. "Don't take another fucking step—"

Iris raised her arms in surrender and moved backward, her eyes wide and face bloodless.

"I won't move," she said. "Kanda, please listen to me—"

"Listen?" he blew up. "Woman, you have done _everything_ except listen to me! All this shit you've been telling me—tell people off, make them listen—does _none of that apply to you?_ You fucking know what ticks me off and you always do it—you don't listen when I tell you to stop—what did you expect?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "Please, Kanda, I went overboard this time—I didn't expect it to affect you that badly—please forgive me."

"No—_you_ are fucking crazy—what don't you understand about _don't fucking touch me_ or _get the fuck away_—you think you—"

"You're right," she said, her breath finally stabilizing, "you're right, I am a little insane. I like to make you uncomfortable, but I swear, Kanda, I would never have done it if I knew you were going to react like this. I'm sorry, please, I—"

"No," he said, edging his way past her and leaving. "No, you can forget this entire thing—I'm moving out."

"Kanda, wait—"

He grabbed his book bag and slammed the door behind him with such force that he could've sworn he heard a window shatter. The blood was still pounding in his ears, the rage still flooding all other emotions, the memories still painfully fresh. He forced himself to keep going, walking blindly out of Morningside Heights—he thought people were staring at him as he wove in and out of the crowd, but he couldn't be sure. Everything was a blur, sounds, sights; he was beginning to fall into an old pattern of certain images, the dark—

He couldn't make it to the shuttle stop. The adrenaline rush that had risen to aid him soon disappeared, leaving him drained and slightly feverish. Kanda ducked into an alley and slumped to the ground, all energy sapped away. Glad that it was empty, he rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes, trying to calm down.

He tried replaying it in his head. He hadn't overreacted. She knew very well what he was doing. And he really would've killed her had Tyki not stopped him.

A wave of nausea passed over him.

He had overreacted. The red welts that had appeared on Iris's neck shortly afterward…no, no matter how intuitive she was, she wouldn't have known the entire thing—but it was Iris Fairing, she did know, and she loved watching him squirm—but _nothing_ warranted him trying to kill her as an automatic reaction—her skin had been soft and her neck so thin; he could've snapped it easily—she was just a fragile, fragile girl with a devious mind, he shouldn't have reacted the way he had—

"Iris—"

Kanda stiffened. Someone ran by his alleyway and Kanda pressed himself against the wall behind a rubbish dispenser, listening intently. It was Tyki who had called out.

"Iris, slow down."

"Where did he go?" said Iris, and Kanda could not miss the panic in her voice.

"Probably to campus, Iris, calm down."

"No, he didn't, the shuttle doesn't arrive for another five minutes and he's not there—Tyki, if he does something drastic—"

"Iris," said Tyki, his tone firm. "You have a presentation today, don't you?"

"That's not important."

"Yes, it is. Get to campus. I'll look around for him and I'll let you know once I find him."

"I—"

"Iris, look at yourself. Don't you think your state resembles how you were when you figured out a certain someone disappeared?"

"…Tyki," she said sharply.

"Honestly."

There was a tense silence, finally broken by Iris sighing.

"…I understand."

"You know I'm only worrying for you, Iris."

"I know…thanks, babe."

"I'll look around and text you when I find him."

"…Not if?"

"I'm a confident man, Iris Fairing. It fuels my existence."

Iris laughed, but it sounded half-hearted. "All right then…please tell him I'm sorry."

"I'll be sure to, dear."

The conversation ended there, and after several minutes of waiting, Kanda thought both of them had finally left. He let out a relieved breath.

"You don't know how many times I've pissed right where you're sitting now, Kanda."

Kanda scrambled up immediately, bolting to the other side of the alleyway and dusting himself off as he did. Tyki grinned at him as he lit a cigarette.

"Just kidding, is what I'd like to say," said Tyki. "Except it's true."

"How long have you known I was there?" said Kanda.

"Since the start. Iris didn't see you though—she's a little too short to be good at looking for people."

"Why didn't you tell her I was here?"

"Because she would've just kept on apologizing, which would've been pointless because it's not like you want to be listening to that," said Tyki. "Quite honestly, I hate it when Iris is like this. She's much more fun when she's composed. It's interesting she would panic so much because of you though."

"What do you mean?" snapped Kanda. "She wasn't _panicking_—"

"If you didn't call that 'panicking,' I'm pretty sure you don't know what that word means."

Kanda fell silent and settled for a stony glare.

"Don't want to admit that she was sincere?" said Tyki lightly.

Kanda narrowed his eyes. "You don't get it."

"Oh, I do. I have a good idea why you reacted why you did—Iris mentioned it, actually, while we were running. You feeling better?"

"What?"

"You. Feeling. Better," said Tyki, enunciating every word clearly. "I didn't get to finish breakfast—I'm going to go to a café and get something to eat. Why don't you come along and we talk about a few things."

"I don't want to—"

"It wasn't a question, Yuu Kanda," said Tyki, and though his tone was still conversational, Kanda did not miss the underlying warning. "Let's go."

* * *

They went to Joe's Coffee, right outside of Morningside Heights, as Kanda reminded Tyki that unfortunately, he had class at noon and did not have an endless amount of time gallivanting around with someone he couldn't help but resent.

"It's fine," said Tyki nonchalantly as they sat down with their coffee and bagels. "We have plenty of time."

"What do you want?" said Kanda begrudgingly.

"You," said Tyki, arching his eyebrows in a seductive manner.

Kanda hissed audibly. He was not in the mood for jokes—not that he was ever.

"Oh, not going to try to choke me?" said Tyki.

Kanda flared. "That was a—"

"Accident?" suggested Tyki. "But it wasn't, was it?" His golden eyes gleamed. "You really wanted to hurt her."

Kanda didn't reply. He could not deny that he had felt a rush of…what was it…pleasure? Or overwhelming satisfaction? But he didn't want to dwell on it—he could not be on their level, taking pleasure in inflicting pain.

"I have to admit," said Tyki, pulling the third cigarette Kanda had seen him smoke in the last ten minutes out of his breast pocket, "originally, I didn't think you were anything special—other than your beauty, of course—but then Iris started to torment you , which meant that there had to be _something_ different about you."

"What?" said Kanda. "Why do you guys say it like it's a _good_ thing, being tormented by someone like her?"

Tyki smirked. "Because it means that she cares about you. You should know about now—the less fake she is around you, the more she likes you."

"She does not _like_ me."

"Oh, but she does, much to my surprise," said Tyki. "She just has a peculiar way of showing it."

"Just what is your definition of 'liking' someone?" asked Kanda bluntly. "She 'likes' you, but she treats me nothing like she treats you which means that she certifiably hates me."

"Ah, yes, but who said she treated me like this when we first met?" When Kanda looked stumped, Tyki's grin widened. "She was not nice, Kanda. I had to fight her tooth and nail—you should've heard all the names she called me when I tried to get her to sleep with me."

"Of course," said Kanda sourly.

"It took her about…" Tyki thought for a moment, "six months, maybe? Before we agreed to just be friends."

"How long ago was this?"

"She was a junior in high school, so…around five years?"

Kanda nearly spat out his coffee—it was too bitter anyway. "High school? And you wanted to sleep with her? Isn't that illegal?"

"It is?" said Tyki innocently. "Oh, no wonder she called me a pedophile and creepy sex offender."

"Look, I'm not like you," snapped Kanda. "I'm not going to _fight_ for her respect."

"You already have it," said Tyki calmly. "Iris does this—she's mean, cruel, even—until she knows your boundaries. And I think we all realize today what your boundaries are. Now that she knows them, she's going to still be a little…well, she's Iris…but she's not going to be as hateful as you find her to be."

Kanda's expression must have shown his skepticism, for Tyki sighed exasperatedly.

"I know Iris well. I may know her the best…well, there might be someone who could contend with me for that award. But—"

"Who?" demanded Kanda. "Who is this other guy you guys keep skirting around—this 'certain someone'?"

"Iris will tell you…eventually," said Tyki evasively. "He's a sensitive topic."

"Why?"

"Because…" Tyki hesitated, but then changed his direction. "I can count the number of people Iris really cares about on one hand. Actually, it's just three people. You, me, and that one guy. Oh, and I guess her parents."

"…Eh?" said Kanda, bewildered. "You're crazy, she hates me."

Tyki shrugged. "You think she would've apologized to you right after you choked her if she hated you? She should've called the police and gotten you arrested instead of apologizing to you. If anything, _you_ should be apologizing to her. But that's Iris for you. If you are fortunate enough to have her on your side, she gives you her all."

"Fortunate? You think I'm _fortunate_ to even know someone like her?"

"Kanda, I've borne with it for a while, but if you keep talking about Iris as if she's a plague to your existence, I may just reach over and casually give you a black eye."

Tyki's tone was still casual, but a hard glint had entered his eyes. He was serious. Kanda wanted to groan—why did he know so many volatile people…

"Yes, fortunate," continued Tyki. "Think about it statistically. You are one of five people that Iris likes. Doesn't happen very often, considering she knows over half of Columbia campus. And I'm sure you've noticed that Iris Fairing can be a very powerful and imposing person. She's cunning and superior because she can read people extremely well. She likes you. You should be grateful."

"…How do you _know_," said Kanda. "For sure, I mean."

"Because these last few months that you've lived with her, she's been testing you. Getting to know you. Your likes, dislikes, boundaries, so she will know exactly how to predict you in the even that you need anything. She's gifted in this aspect. I can guarantee you that she probably knows you as well as your friend in Britain does."

Kanda did not bother asking how Tyki knew who Lavi was.

"I don't know how many times she's needed to make decisions for me, and she always knows exactly what I would do."

"Like when?"

"…I was in a coma for a few months a couple years ago," said Tyki easily. "Car accident. Iris was my medical proxy."

"Not your family?"

"No, I told them after Iris and I became friends and I realized how well she knew me. They understood."

Tyki definitely had a family that was just as irrational as he was.

"The first time I ever saw Iris panic was when I woke up," he continued. "My family told me that they had to force her to eat and sleep when I was out. She skipped over a month's worth of classes—thank God she's a genius, or else she would've failed that semester and I would've felt terrible." He held Kanda's gaze levelly. "Are you understanding her a little better? She gives _everything_. For her, it is literally all or nothing. Truthfully, it's up to you how much you want to give back. But…" Tyki gave a twisted little smile, "I'll go ahead and say that I'll make sure you won't last very long if treat her poorly."

"But I don't _want_ to," insisted Kanda. "In case you can't tell, I can't stand her."

"Why?" said Tyki. "Because she makes you feel vulnerable? But I'm sure you've realized by now—you make her feel the same way."

"No, I don't," he retorted. "She is unfazed by everything—she never listens when I yell, it's like she's immune to insults, and—"

"Oh, no, not your yelling," said Tyki, waving his cigarette. "You yell on such a constant basis, even I'm used to it. I'm talking about when you're actually _nice_."

"What is up with—don't tell me even _you_ think I'm _nice,_" spat Kanda. "I am the least nice person on the face of the planet—I hate the world and the world hates me, it's pretty much my life in a nutshell."

"Whatever," said Tyki breezily. "She likes you, and you're going to have to deal with it. You pretty much only have one option, which is be nice to her, because if you aren't, I _might_ just kill you when you're not looking."

Kanda didn't know what was worse: that Tyki was still conversationally pleasant, or that he was actually being serious. He decided to disregard the threat.

"Look, if you two like each other so much, why aren't you guys really together?" said Kanda. "You guys clearly _get_ each other, so—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Tyki, holding up his hands. "That's the point. Who wants to be with someone you understand? It'd take all the fun out of everything." He grinned and blew out a ring of smoke. "We all have a wild side, Kanda. You do too. That's why you're not going to leave Iris."

"What? No, I'm still moving out."

"Oh, no, you're not," smirked Tyki. "I know it already. You're never going to leave Iris." He tapped the skin over his heart. "She's already got to you."

* * *

He'd wanted to punch Tyki as hard as he could for suggesting something so stupid, but several factors had interfered: his impending class that he was going to be late for, and a barista who'd come over to tell Tyki that the café was non-smoking. ("But I've been smoking for the last fifteen minutes." "I know, and our manager said that if you hadn't been so hot, she would've stopped you immediately, but we've had complaints." "Oh. I understand. So which one's the manager? Oh, I see her. Hm…here's my number. Tell her to call me.")

Still unable to believe that Tyki had the most acute form of playboy-itus even though he and Iris seemed like they would die for each other, Kanda had shuffled out of the café as Tyki continued his flirting. He had to be proud of himself for making it to campus in less than fifteen minutes, but that was because he had a lot of rage to burn off. What had Tyki even meant? Iris had _gotten_ to him? Well if he meant that she knew how to piss him off, he was right. But it was quite obvious that Tyki was implying something else, and Kanda found himself incredibly annoyed with the idea. He did not like Iris in the slightest. And he was still unbearably furious with her supposed joke this morning.

He managed to avoid Iris throughout the day, ducking away whenever he saw her on the quad. Twice, she caught sight of him and ran after him, but Iris's short legs made her very easy to outstrip in a race, and he managed to escape her.

It was late afternoon when Kanda finally got out of his last class, as ecstatic as his stoic expression would allow. Indeed, who the hell cared about human judgment and ethics represented in Victorian art—he had a half-mind that it was all made up by the department to solicit funding. As he walked out of the building, someone nearly ran into him.

"Ow!"

"Watch it," said Kanda.

"I'm sorry," said a familiar-looking woman, "I'm so sorry—oh!"

Her eyes widened in recognition, and it took a few seconds before Kanda placed her in his memory as well.

"You're that boy from yesterday," she said. "Do you remember me?"

Kanda nodded curtly. "…Forgot your name though."

"Miranda," she said, extending a hand. "Miranda Lotte—Lenalee told me yesterday you were at this school."

"Were you looking for me?" said Kanda suspiciously.

"Oh, no," she laughed nervously. "I-I'm actually an alumnus here—class of '07."

"…Really?"

"I know, it's not that believable," said Miranda, supposedly embarrassed. "I was an Art History major and I was just coming to see my advisor about maybe TA-ing here, s-since I just lost my job…"

"They fired you?" said Kanda disbelievingly.

"Well, yes, sort of," said Miranda timidly, her eyes already welling up.

"Assholes…"

"Oh, it's o-okay!" she said emphatically. "I was going to quit anyway, and I didn't really get to do what I wanted—u-um, but could I treat you to coffee? Since I couldn't p-pay you back yesterday?"

"Lady, you just lost your job," said Kanda. "I'm not going to make you buy me food. Bye."

"W-wait, seriously!"

Before she could say anything else, though, a loud grumble ensued, and Miranda blushed deeply.

"I-I'm so sorry!" she wailed. "That was s-s-so embarrassing—but I haven't eaten all day and—"

"Woman!" bellowed Kanda. "Fine, let's go get food—don't just cry at every little thing! Why do you think middle schoolers can bully you?"

"S-sorry," she said, following him to the campus café. "I-I'm just naturally emotional…"

He couldn't help remembering Iris's words from the day before—_trash that can't even keep a class of spoiled kids under control._

"Shit," he muttered under his breath.

"S-Sorry?" said Miranda.

"Nothing," he said, mentally cursing himself for not only remembering everything Iris said verbatim, but that he would think of Miranda as trash. She was useless, true, but he was reluctant to adopt Iris's viewpoints. "Where do you want to go?"

"O-Oh…um…just the dining hall?"

They set off in that direction. Miranda was clearly searching for a topic of conversation, but Kanda did not help her; he was terrible at small talk and hated inefficient conversation, which was why talking to Iris was such a headache—and dammit, why did everything he thought about circulate about Iris—

"Kanda!"

Shit. He looked behind him; Iris was already sprinting in his direction, despite that she was wearing heels and a pencil skirt.

"Let's go," he said curtly to Miranda.

"Oh, but isn't that the girl from y-yesterday?"

"Yes, and if you don't remember, she called you trash, so if you actually want to talk to her then—"

"Finally—ow—" Iris had been running at such speed that she could not stop properly and had run into him effectively. "Sorry, sorry," she said, clearly out of breath as she skirted away from him. "Not touching you, okay?" She raised her hands, as if showing that she was unarmed. "Will you listen to me?"

"No," said Kanda, turning away from him.

"Kanda, I'm sorry about this morning—"

He ignored her. Miranda looked at Iris curiously, but it was as if she was completely invisible to Iris.

"Kanda! Please, will you just _listen_—"

"Listen to what?" he demanded, turning around at last. "Since when have _you_ ever listened?"

"Never, I know that, and I know it's really hypocritical of me but I am seriously so sorry for this morning; please don't move out—"

Miranda looked even more curiously between the two of them. Kanda knew what she was thinking.

"No," he told her. "We're not dating. And you," he said, turning back to Iris, "stop following me—don't you have class?"

"That's not important. Kanda, please, don't move out."

He shook his head, unwilling to compromise. Something along the lines of desperation flashed across Iris's face, and before Kanda could say anything else, Iris fell to her knees. When she did, her scarf bounced up slightly, revealing a string of bluish-purple grip marks on her neck; Kanda panicked slightly at the sight of them, but they disappeared behind her scarf seconds later.

"What—what the fuck are you doing?"

"You know how much I care for pretenses," she said, her tone soft. "Kanda, I have a presentation worth thirty percent of my grade that I'm already late for. I'm wearing a skirt that's not mine and worth a thousand dollars that I don't have. I know it doesn't seem like a lot and it's all petty but you _know_ how important being perfect is for me—and right now, I'm giving all that up and _begging _you in front of whoever is on the quad—"

"Iris!"

Iris visibly scowled, the first time Kanda had ever seen her display her displeasure.

A redheaded girl bounded up to them, freckled and oblivious. She stared at Iris, then back up at Kanda.

"Iris, girl, what are you doing?" she said. "Come _on_, you're making my skirt dirty! And we have a presentation! If we fail it, it's going to be all your fault—and in the meantime, would you _please_ help us in the dance showcase, our lead is injured, and I also need help proofreading my, well, actually, writing my abstract for—"

"Annabelle. For once in your life, shut the fuck up."

Annabelle's lips curled into a surprised "O." Clearly, she had never seen this side of Iris.

"Right now," said Iris in a steely tone, "I am busy apologizing to someone who is infinitely more important than you or the presentation or your stupid showcase. Go tell Lou Fa and Emilia that I'll be late—Lou Fa is smart enough to improvise for me and Emilia knows her part like the back of her hand. You don't need to do anything because you're stupid and incompetent, so just shut up and sit there and the presentation should go fine. Also, do your own fucking homework."

Annabelle was, for very good reason, stunned. Miranda's expression mirrored Annabelle's, but Kanda felt a wave of relief and simultaneous unwanted sympathy. Iris stared up at him resolutely, fading out everyone around her.

"Kanda, I'm being the most sincere that I've ever been. I'm sorry for this morning—I went over the line and I shouldn't have. I know you're angry, and you have every right to be, but please don't move out until I can apologize properly to you—I—"

"Get up," said Kanda gruffly.

"…I'm not done apologizing."

"Woman, you're not listening again," he said, grabbing her by her upper arms and effortlessly lifting her to her feet. "You seriously need to get hearing aids or something…"

"…You forgive me?" she said, almost ecstatic.

"No," he said acidly. "But if you had any common sense, you would know that I don't have anywhere to move out to and you wouldn't be panicking. Go to your presentation."

Iris smiled. "…Thank you."

"Woman, don't sit there and grin—_go_."

"And I'm sorry again, and—"

"Do you need me to carry you there?"

"…Do you want to?" said Iris excitedly. "Please do, that would be so interesting."

"Woman, you're pushing you r limits."

"Okay, going, going," said Iris, her mood completely different from when she was speaking to Annabelle. "Oh, I could kiss you."

"Don't," seethed Kanda, "you dare."

"I know. See you when I get home?"

"Yeah, whatever."

Iris waved childishly and turned to leave, only to find Annabelle still staring at her, stunned.

"Oh, Annabelle. Why are you still here?"

"You just…Iris Fairing, did you just hear what you told me?"

"Yes, and I meant every word of it. Do your own homework from now on, bitch."

* * *

Kanda returned to the apartment late that evening—he had met up with Miranda for a surprisingly long time, and then Lenalee had wanted to grab dinner while she was upstate. He was much more relieved than before, knowing that Iris was going to observe her restrictions.

He opened the door, expecting to find the kitchen light on and Iris studying as she always was at this time, but the apartment was empty except for the flickering screen of the television. Two bottles of wine and glasses stood rigidly on the coffee table in front of two figures curled up on the sofa; one turned to look at him, and Kanda found it slightly alarming that Tyki's golden irises were nearly glow-in-the-dark.

"Don't turn on the light," Tyki whispered.

"Why?" said Kanda, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"Shhh," said Tyki, bringing a finger up to his lips. "I just got her to fall asleep."

"Oh. Why are you here? I thought you only came on weekends."

"Jealous?"

"Shut up."

"It was a…sort of an emergency, and she didn't want to be left alone. We ended up just drinking a lot…but now that you're back…" Tyki shifted in the dark, trying to dislodge his arm from behind Iris's neck. "You can take care of her."

"Why do—"

"Three point seven…" mumbled Iris suddenly.

"Oh dear…" sighed Tyki. "She's dreaming about it now."

"What?" said Kanda, sitting down on the couch on Iris's other side.

"…Apparently, her professor was furious that she was late, and knocked points off her presentation and she can only get an A- in the class now."

"…And that's a 3.7," said Kanda, understanding dawning on him.

"Yep."

"She's depressed?" he said incredulously.

"Unbelievably so. She came home crying, so I canceled my dinner plans to take care of her."

"Who cries over—"

"I dunno," said Tyki dryly, "but it's important to her so she's fairly sad. And since technically, it was your fault, you can take care of her now."

"It wasn't my fault!"

"She _knelt_ in front of you and begged," said Tyki coolly. "If it wasn't your fault, do tell me whose it was so I can go murder him."

Kanda grimaced. "Does she tell you _everything_?"

"Pretty much."

"I didn't make her late."

"She chased you down three times throughout the day and had to _beg_ to get you to forgive her—after we talked today, I figured you wouldn't give her such a hard time."

"I didn't…mean to," said Kanda, annoyed. "She's asleep, why don't you just move her to her room?"

"Because she told me to wake her up at eleven," he replied. "She apparently wants to write an apology report. But here, I have to get to work."

He pushed Iris gently towards Kanda, and her head fell on his shoulder.

"I don't like being touched," said Kanda through gritted teeth.

"Seriously," said Tyki sardonically, "she's asleep, she can't do anything. Iris hardly ever cries, so as unreasonable as it is to is, it's something serious, which means the least you can do is let her rest on your shoulder. Text me if you need anything. I gotta go."

He stood up and tossed on his suit jacket; given the way he was dressed and how much gel was in his hair, he had obviously run here in the middle of a date. Kanda couldn't resist asking again.

"…Hey, Tyki."

"Mm?"

"I'm not kidding. It doesn't make any sense that you two aren't serious," said Kanda. "You're practically dating for real, so—"

"Kanda, is this you trying to figure out your boundaries with her?"

"…What?"

"It's like you're trying to make sure it's okay if you like her or something."

"I do not!"

"Keep your voice down. No, I don't care if you like her. Yes, I care if you hurt her. Yes, I like sleeping with her. Yes, I would drop everything I'm doing to make sure she's happy. No, I don't love her. No, I would not date her for real or marry her or whatever people do these days. No, we are not exclusive. Does that answer everything?"

"I wasn't asking, but thanks for the info," said Kanda sarcastically.

"Look, I live a good life. I do what I want, I have a job that allows me to indulge, but I have people that I care for. One of them is Iris. But we don't love each other because we're too similar. We're safe choices for each other because we won't hurt each other, but what's the point when there's no risk? We both know that, which is why what we do is for fun. You can figure out if you like her or not, but I gotta go."

"I don't like her."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bye."

The door clacked shut; the bolt slid shut, locked from the outside. Kanda sighed and sat uncomfortably, aimlessly watching the television. He knew very well that he did not like Iris in the slightest, because if he did, he would actually feel _jealous_ of her and Tyki, which he did not.

"Three point seven…" mumbled Iris again.

"Yeah, yeah," said Kanda acerbically, "I know, I made you lose your 4.0. Too bad. You deserved it."

"…My 4.0…"

Kanda looked down at her exasperatedly. "It's just a grade, why are you so depressed? You don't need to be so perfect all the time."

"…Yeah, I do."

Kanda bolted away from her, but Iris was awake and managed to catch herself from falling.

"You're awake?"

"You didn't know?" she said oddly. "You were talking to me."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you were actually awake!"

"You talk to people in their sleep and think it's normal when they reply?"

"How long have you been awake?"

"Since Tyki left." She looked around. "Ugh…I need to text him…I was a mess today."

"Was the grade that important to you?"

"…I know it sounds stupid," she said defensively, "but…but I was all over the place today. I overstepped my boundaries with you, I failed my math quiz because I was worried about you, then I _kneeled_ in public to apologize, I yelled at Annabelle, was late to my presentation, couldn't compose myself for it, and now…goodbye 4.0. I just…I _need_ the perfect Iris. And…"

"Is it because you're afraid of getting bullied again?" he heard himself asking. Even though he didn't care.

"…No…kind of…I just feel this…desperate need to make people like me…even when I don't them…"

"You weren't like that with me," said Kanda skeptically.

"Well, that's because I knew from the start that you would like me as I am, since the first time you met me, you hated nice Iris."

"I hated _fake_ you."

"Whatever…ugh," she said. "So much wine…dammit. Did Tyki finish it…"

"I'm pretty sure _you_ finished it," he said, knocking her hand away from the bottles. "Stop it, go to sleep."

"Need to finish my apology letter," she whined, her breath smelling strongly of alcohol.

"You're drunk," he said brusquely. "The only thing you're going to do is ramble. Go to sleep."

"Kanda," she said, her words beginning to slur, "I'm sorry about today."

"Yeah, whatever."

"No…really…I'll be better tomorrow…normal…and mean…"

"What? Tyki said you'd be nicer!"

"I will…be meaner…within my limits…"

"Iris fucking Fairing—"

"Mm-hm…" she said, almost giggling as she fell onto his lap. "Night, Kanda."

"You cannot just sleep here—"

"Your lap is so soft, Kanda."

"Woman!"

"And your eyes are so…blue. That's so weird. If we were in Asia, you would've been married off immediately."

"Are you—"

"Though it's probably not hard to marry you off here," murmured Iris. "So many people think you're so gorgeous…makes me jealous…"

Kanda let out an irritated breath. "I'm going to move."

"Okay."

"You're going to fall."

"Okay."

"Woman!"

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you in the past?"

Kanda grew still. "…No."

"…Okay. I'll wait."

"…I'll tell you," he snarled, "when you tell me what happened with you and that 'certain someone' you and Tyki keep talking about."

"…I'll hold you to that deal."

"What? I thought you never wanted to talk about him!"

"I'm drunk and alone with you, Kanda…I'm a very…generous, sad person. The only other thing to do would be to sleep with you, but something tells me that's not going to happen." She yawned. "Besides…I'm drunk…whenever I drink wine…I think of him…"

Great. He was stuck with a rambling alcoholic. It was nearly eleven, he had homework, and it was a Monday night. And Iris Fairing was drunk and sentimental.

"He's the only person I really fell in love with," said Iris softly. "So handsome…sophisticated. And mysterious…I couldn't read him…but he could read me." She smiled. "It made me excited."

Kanda said nothing. This was what Tyki had meant—the risk, that it was not _fun_ when they knew each other too well.

"But then he left," she said, waving her hand. "Disappeared. Without a word."

"So?" said Kanda apathetically.

"…Yeah, you're right," she murmured. "So? But it was just…" She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. "Can't forget. Miss him. Sometimes."

_All the time_, thought Kanda darkly.

"Why was he such a big deal?"

"…Dunno," she whispered. "I guess…he was the first one I couldn't win against."

* * *

He had to wonder if everything to Iris was a game of some sort, except she liked nothing better than losing. Losing made her sincere, losing made her invested emotionally.

He did not fully understand why it was that she cared for him. They had been living together for several months now, but that was just the honeymoon period, the time when little quirks about each other were still being unearthed and examined. Yet perhaps, because it was Iris, all little quirks were meaningless, and all that mattered was the real heart of issues: personality. As Kanda laid awake in bed that night after leaving Iris, fast asleep on the couch, he could not help but slowly find the truths of what Tyki had told him. That with the exception of this morning, Iris had always known exactly when to stop. That all the people she was fake around were the people Kanda couldn't care less for. What alarmed him even more where their parallels—except for the fundamental difference that Kanda was, when it mattered, "kind," and Iris was nothing more than cruel. Miranda was the perfect example of that.

He half-wished that he had Tyki's intuition when it came to Iris—that he had been able to find out all the things about Iris without Tyki having to tell him everything.

But that meant he was curious.

And if he was curious, that meant he cared.

Which he did not.

Iris was back to normal the next morning. Kanda, always the early bird, woke up around eight and had made a sufficient amount of vindictive noise in the kitchen before Iris finally woke up, completely disoriented.

"Kanda," she groaned as she sat up on the sofa, cracking her neck. "You couldn't be quieter? Oh…shit…my neck…"

"Serves you right."

"Heartless," she said irritably as she stood up. "Didn't even get me a blanket…"

"I'm not your servant."

"You could be nice," she muttered, picking her phone from off the coffee table and looking through it. "Good morning…Tyki…" she said aloud as she texted. "I am fine…sorry if I bothered you yesterday…hope I didn't…say anything…stupid. There. Send."

Kanda looked up from his oatmeal.

"You don't remember anything from last night?" he asked.

"Other than, what was it, oh yeah, my A-?" she said viciously. "I never remember anything when I'm drunk. Shame too, because Tyki says the best sex we've had is when we were drunk, but what? Did I say anything?"

"…No," he lied, looking down at his oatmeal.

"What did I say?" said Iris suspiciously, sitting down across from him.

"Nothing," he said sharply. "Forget it."

Iris's eyes narrowed. "Spit it out."

"Don't try to intimidate me."

"Oh," she scoffed, "you think I need to try?"

"Did yesterday never happen?"

"You think I'm just going to be _nice_? I said I was going to be normal," she said coolly. "This is normal. I got an A- because of you. Spit it out."

"Fine," he said angrily. "You just talked about your 'certain someone' or whatever."

Iris paled. "How much did I say? Did I say his name or anything?"

"No, you gave me a bunch of useless information about how infatuated you were with him."

An unmistakable blush crept up to Iris's cheeks. The image of Iris, infatuated, was disturbing. Something rippled through him, and he could not help but frown.

"Oh, thank goodness it was you…" she said. "If I'd been saying that to Tyki, he'd be so angry…"

"Why?"

"He hates…never mind," said Iris, recovering herself. "Sorry I caused you trouble. I have a lot to sort out today."

"Like what? Your apology letter?" he said disparagingly. "Why don't you just give it a rest?"

"No," she said stubbornly. "And I have to apologize to Annabelle…"

"What?" said Kanda disbelievingly. "Is this what you do to people you hate? Suck up to them?"

Iris ignored him and dialed a number on her phone.

"Hi, Annabelle?" said Iris brightly. "Hey, look, I'm so sorry about yesterday. I…it was just a really hard day, and…oh. Oh. Annabelle…I gave up dance club for a personal reason, I really don't want to…" Iris sighed, listening intently. A crease appeared between her recently-plucked eyebrows, and she straightened out her shirt uncomfortably. "Fine…just this once. When do rehearsals—_the showcase is in two weeks_? I can't…okay, yes, I can. Fine. Fine, I'll see you at rehearsal then."

Iris hung up and blew out a breath, her superficial joviality dissipating into clear disgust.

"And you just got roped into doing something you didn't want to for someone you hate," said Kanda. "I don't get you."

"I know," she said simply. "And quite honestly, you never will."

Kanda's frown deepened. "What?"

"Only two people understand me perfectly," she said. "Tyki, and the other guy. You're not crazy enough to get me completely."

"I doubt that," muttered Kanda under his breath, eying her still-bruised neck.

She caught his eye and smiled. "If it's about yesterday…I guess I kinda deserved that one."

"I choked you, Iris Fairing—tell me again how you actually deserved that."

"Why don't you tell me?" she said dryly. "You're the one who believed I did."

"I…"

"Oh, don't tell me you want to apologize?"

"Somewhat," he said reluctantly.

"Don't," she said. "It's very unlike you."

"Yeah, well you were sure as hell _unlike yourself_ yesterday," he responded.

"I had a hard day. If you want to apologize that badly though, fine, apology accepted. Except…" she stared at him intently. "Just a question. What exactly happened to you that makes you so…_you_?"

Kanda stared back. He did not want to answer. This was information that barely anyone else knew—Lavi, Tiedoll, Lenalee, and perhaps to some extent, Komui, but other than that—no one. He had known Iris Fairing for mere months; she did not warrant his trust.

She seemed to understand that he was unwilling to answer, and it seemed like the memories of yesterday were still fresh and the lessons well-learned. She backed down, yielding room.

"Just kidding," she said, standing up. "I won't force it out of you."

"Don't you already know?" said Kanda suddenly. Behind him, Iris stopped.

"…I thought I did," she admitted, "but I was wrong the first time. So I'm worried about jumping to conclusions again."

"What did you think the first time?"

There was a pause. He could hear her shuffling behind him. She hadn't expected his reply. His throat unconsciously constricted; he could feel his heartbeat quicken and a cold sweat come over him, but he needed to get it out—Iris needed to know—but why? But she knew it anyway; he wanted her to get there on her own so he wouldn't have to explain anything. Wouldn't have to explain why he had boundaries. Why he had reacted the way he had.

This was an apology.

"I just…" she said uncertainly. "I just thought it was bullying in your orphanage. And maybe some kids…tormented you. But I was wrong."

"…Yeah, you were."

"…What I have in mind now is a lot worse."

"…You're probably right."

"…Kanda?" said Iris quietly.

"What?"

"You were adopted more than once, right?"

"…Yeah," he said, and he couldn't help his voice coming out softer than he wanted it to.

"Okay," she said faintly.

"…What are you…" he cleared his throat. "What are you thinking?"

"It's okay," she said softly. "We don't have to talk about it."

"Just say it," he snapped, rage irrationally trumping his fear. Just get it over with, just _talk_.

"You were sexually abused by the woman who adopted you," said Iris in a rush, as if she wanted nothing better to spit it all out and forget it.

A silence ensued; Kanda felt like he was having a panic attack, but he never panicked, he just didn't feel well—he felt lightheaded and slightly nauseous—he hadn't really wanted to hear it, but he had asked for it, and when he thought about it, why had he encouraged the conversation—Iris had given him plenty of checkpoints to stop at, save and return to chapter, why hadn't he used them, why had he literally just given her all his cards and—

He stood up, the chair creating a screeching sound as he pushed it back. With surprising composure, he headed to his room.

"I'm not going to class today," he said mechanically.

"I won't either, I'll just—"

"Go."

"…Kanda," said Iris. Her footsteps followed him. "Kanda, I-I shouldn't have said anything, I-I'm—"

He turned around to face her, and something about his expression must have frightened Iris, for she stopped talking. He studied her countenance closely; he didn't understand why someone so small could affect him to this degree, nor could he understand why someone normally so intimidating actually looked like she was truly, truly sorry. It was the same look that she had had when she was apologizing to him the day before; this was Iris the sincere, the I-will-do-anything-for-you Iris.

He did not understand why he warranted this…what had Tyki called it…fortune.

"Two things," he heard himself saying. "I was adopted more than twice. And it wasn't always a woman."

All the blood seemed to drain from Iris's face. He turned away because she looked like she was on the brink of tears and he didn't understand why—he didn't understand her at _all_—fuck, he was an idiot, he had just given her all the cards and he could exploit him in any way that she wanted—

"Kanda?" she said, her voice shaky. Another first.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He scoffed. "Why? It wasn't like it was you."

He entered his room and shut the door behind him. Finally, alone. All the breaths he'd held in escaped now, and he fell onto his bed, trying to calm down, trying to forget—he tugged at his collar, unsure if he was trying to get it to choke him or if he was trying to prevent it from choking him—fuck, what time was it in London—

He was crazy, he was just as crazy as she was. He was not nice, he was the farthest thing from nice, because he didn't understand Iris completely but he knew now, knew that she was the kind of person who would do anything for him—and so he'd told her everything because he knew she could not resist now, could not leave him because he could not leave her—was this dependency or manipulation? Addiction or domination?

The tables had turned. Or evened out.

They had been reeled in.

* * *

_free talk_:

two fic updates in a less than five days, whewww. hope you all enjoyed!

i'll keep saying it: i know - i'm stretching kanda's personality. i hope you all understand and aren't too put off by it, though i understand some may not appreciate it. all the same, i am enjoying writing this so far and so i hope you will still stick with it!

a little background for both of our protagonists. you should be able to tell who iris's 'other guy' is by now. :) and hopefully you are able to see the budding...um...chemistry, somewhat, between iris and kanda. odd as it is...

a bit apprehensive of the response, but so far it has been wonderful. :) thank you for your support, and please review!  
xoxo,  
m.n


	4. The Kids Don't Stand a Chance

**Chapter 4: The Kids Don't Stand a Chance**

"You _what_?"

"Shut up."

"Did you just—did I hear you correctly?"

"I said. Shut up."

"Kanda," said Lavi, utterly frustrated, "why did you just—surely you have enough common sense—_why did you tell her everything_?"

"I don't know!" bellowed Kanda at his laptop. "It happened, it just did, okay? I just ended up telling her everything and then I just told you—"

"Okay, Kanda, calm down."

"What do you want me to do? I already said I didn't like it was a great idea but it's already happened, it's not like I can mind-wipe her or something—"

"Okay, Kanda—"

"Do you want me to kill her? I could do that—I came close yesterday—"

"Crime and punishment!" Lavi shouted.

Kanda glared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," said Lavi, stretching in his office chair. His room looked much better decorated than Kanda's—he had already hung up several paintings, and on his bed stand was a framed picture of Lenalee. What a creep. "I just needed you to shut up."

"So you just named off a random book?"

"It's on my desk, all right?" said Lavi sourly, waving a worn red book in front of the camera. "Assigned reading, most generic there is."

"Didn't we read that in high school?"

"Yeah. Well, at least _I _did, and so did Lenalee. You just piggybacked off of us."

"Right," said Kanda, remembering vaguely Lenalee's disapproving-but-amused look when Lavi had fed him the answers to their test. "Well, now that you know I just told everything to the girl from hell…"

"Look, if you told her, then that means you wanted to tell her…to some degree. It's not like she tortured you. And from what you said, she gave you plenty of opportunities to stop. Which means…well, why _did_ you want to tell her?"

"I dunno," said Kanda as he averted his eyes to the sociology textbook lying a few inches away from his laptop. He hadn't opened it since the first day of class.

"C'mon, Kanda. You're going to need to be a little more receptive than that."

"You sound like my shrink."

"Well, hopefully I'm a little more useful," said Lavi seriously. "Come on. If you're not going to talk, I have to go. I have class in half an hour."

"Then go."

"No. Let's talk about it."

Kanda frowned. He hated how Lavi insisted on talking when Kanda least wanted to, but he knew that Lavi thought it was for the best. He had to take several seconds and appreciate that his…_friend_, as much as he hated the term, was a little too perceptive for his own good. Lavi could make the world's best shrink cower at his feet in a matter of seconds. Lavi knew people inside and out—he had the same ability that Kanda was beginning to realize Iris had. Except Lavi used it for universal good, and Iris used it for her own selfish reasons.

"You should meet her," muttered Kanda. "I feel like you two would have a field day."

"Meaning we would want to kill each other."

"Or you two would be so fake to each other that I would kill you both."

"Kanda, stop avoiding the problem."

"Fine," he scowled. "I told her. I…sort of wanted to. After I'd talked to Tyki…I thought I was starting to get the hang of her. And if what Tyki said was true, I felt like…I dunno."

"Making sure she bought everything," nodded Lavi. "Made sure she knew exactly what her boundaries are."

"Yeah. Because she's not crazy enough to torture me after I told her that."

"Okay. But she would've stopped anyway, after she was apologizing to you the way she was. That doesn't explain everything."

Kanda didn't answer for a long time.

"Kanda?" prompted Lavi. "Clock's ticking, man."

"…Apology," he muttered rather incoherently.

"What?"

"Apology," he said louder. "I was. Somehow. Apologizing."

Lavi looked so skeptical that Kanda felt the urge to punch him, except that would've meant punching his laptop, which he did not want to break. He had a five page paper due in that sociology class tomorrow.

"Okay…apologizing," said Lavi. "For…uh…choking her?"

"…I guess."

"Kanda, I need to catch the bus so I'll be brief—do you _like _her?"

Kanda glared. "No."

"Seriously, man, it's okay if the answer's yes. I'll know you're not gay."

"What?" said Kanda, scandalized.

"Or that you're at least capable of liking someone," said Lavi. "Honestly, I had my money on you being gay, but it's fine if you're not."

"Why did you—"

"Your _face_, Kanda. Your _hair_. What else would a sane person think?"

"That I just look good in everything I do," he snapped.

"Uh, yeah. No, right now, I'm betting you're bi. But that's beside the point. So you like her."

"No, I didn't say that."

"Okay." Lavi blew out a breath, causing his long bangs to fly up slightly. "Let's not talk romantically. I'm talking about being friends with her. Do you want to be friends with her?"

"If being friends means that she'll stop tormenting me, then sure, why the hell not."

"Then why can't you tell her that like a normal person?"

"Because she's _not_ a normal person."

"So it's like a game? Who can weird the other person out the fastest?"

"No," said Kanda irritably. "It's not like that."

Lavi gave him an appraising look.

"Okay," he said at last. "I can tell I'm confusing you. Here, let's talk about when I come back from class. In the meantime, try being a little more…normal towards her and see how she responds."

"What's _normal_?" said Kanda scathingly.

"I dunno, maybe how you act around Lenalee."

Kanda thought about it.

"But Lenalee's actually nice," he said finally.

"Who knows, maybe Iris will be too," said Lavi as he stood up and shouldered his bag. "I gotta run. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, whatever."

The call ended, leaving Kanda alone. He exhaled and looked at the time. It was already early afternoon. He'd skipped two classes today. Feeling listless, he stood up from his desk and fell down onto his bed, trying not to think about the prospect of homework. Maybe Iris would write his sociology paper for him.

He let out a groan into his pillow and gripped his head in his hands. His panicky moment from earlier made him feel foolish—he should've just gone to class like a normal person instead of holing himself in his room, which made it painfully obvious that he was uncomfortable with what he had told Iris. He was sick of being so…so mentally _weak_ about this topic. It had been years already.

"Think about all the things you're blessed with," his shrink had suggested.

_Looks_, thought Kanda wryly. Though they were more a bane than a blessing.

Tiedoll was kind to him. Lenalee had stuck with him through thick and thin. Lavi was a rare…friend.

Kanda buried his head deeper in his pillow. Why did his list of blessings seem so short? Why were they so insignificant compared to the burdens?

There was a knock on his door. Kanda looked up, confused. Iris never came home early…in fact…Kanda could've sworn that she was supposed to be in class right now.

He got up and opened the door. Iris looked up at him and dangled a paper bag in front of him.

"Did you eat lunch?" she asked.

"…No."

"Are you hungry?"

He had to think about it for a second.

"Not really."

"Too bad," she said, indicating for him to step out of his room. "I bought takeout."

"Don't you have class?" he said as he followed her to the kitchen.

"Got out early," she said smoothly. He knew she was lying.

"Why are you back?"

"I had to change," she said, gesturing at her outfit. She had changed into a hoodie and leggings.

"What for?"

"Dance practice," she scowled, clearly not impressed with the prospect of rehearsal. "I'll be back late tonight. I have a lot to catch up on."

Kanda nodded as he watched Iris take out the Styrofoam containers, one after another.

"Thai," she said. "It's not soba but think you'll like it."

"I'm not hungry," he said.

"…Eat," she said, pushing the containers and a set of chopsticks towards him.

Compelled to follow her instructions as he always was, he snapped the chopsticks and opened the nearest box, sniffing at the contents. It smelled okay, actually. And after several seconds of sniffing, he realized he was actually starving.

"…You okay?" she asked after several minutes of watching him eat in silence.

"What?"

"You okay?" she repeated. "About this morning?"

"Yeah," he said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"…Nothing. I was just making sure."

"Go to class, woman."

"I told you, we got let out early."

"What, an entire hour early?" he said sarcastically. "Yeah, right."

"You know my schedule?" she said, surprised.

He didn't answer. Iris smiled faintly and made a movement to pat him on the head, except she seemed to catch herself. She stopped midway and retracted her hand.

"I'll be late tonight," she said. "If you need anything, though, just let me know."

"Look, you don't have to be freakishly nice just because you feel sorry for me," he snapped, her obvious caution annoying him.

"Oh, sorry," she said dryly, "I'll take that seriously from the person scarfing down the food I bought him."

"I just meant," he said through gritted teeth, "you don't need to pity me. I hate it."

"Fair enough," she said in the same sedate tone.

"So all this stuff and being nice—"

"One time thing," she assured him. "Just needed to make sure you hadn't thrown yourself out a window or something."

"Che. I'm not that weak."

"Okay, I'll take your word for it."

She straightened her hoodie and picked up her shoulder bag from the chair.

"I'm going to go back to campus," she said. "You're welcome to come to dance practice, if you get lonely."

Kanda snorted audibly.

"Not to dance," she said disparagingly, "though that would be so interesting. I meant to watch, if you're bored."

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged as she stretched out her arms. "I'm good though."

"I'm sure you are."

"Fine, be good," she said, waving.

He couldn't help asking when she got to the door. "Where's the studio?"

Iris turned around, smiling. "Just text Tyki when you want to go. He'll give you a ride."

The door shut behind her, leaving Kanda alone again. The heavy scents of soy and peanut sauce permeated through the apartment. He felt satiated—full, even.

_So_, he thought sardonically, _had that been a normal conversation_?

* * *

Kanda had finally decided to go watch the dance practice in the late evening. His paper was getting nowhere, and quite honestly, he was bored out of his mind. He had talked to Lavi briefly, but Lavi had other friends to go out drinking with that night; Kanda, on the other hand, was alone and usually preferred to be left that way. But for some reason, the empty apartment was unsettling, and when he was alone, his mind tended to wander. Tonight was one of those times that Kanda didn't appreciate where his mind wandered to, so he texted Tyki about going to practice. Tyki had replied him that he would only get off work at ten, and so he would pick him up afterward.

"Are they still practicing?" said Kanda as he climbed into the BMW. Tyki had taken his time picking him up; it was nearing eleven by the time he arrived. It was clear that he had gone home and showered before coming—his hair was still damp and he smelled strongly of shampoo. He had changed from his normal formal attire in favor of a Columbia hoodie and jeans, which Kanda had never seen him wear.

"Probably," said Tyki. "If Iris is replacing the lead, she'll be there until past midnight…"

"How do they get anything done?" Kanda said, privately thinking that he had wasted all day trying to get one paper done.

"Intensive time management," shrugged Tyki. "Iris is also crazy when it comes to concentration. She knows how to juggle things really well. Besides…no matter how much she denies it, she loves dancing."

"Then why'd she quit?"

"Guess."

"Certain someone."

"Yup," nodded Tyki as he parked in a rare spot on the side of the street. "She quit after he left."

"Were they dance partners?"

"No. Not really."

Tyki didn't say anything past that, so Kanda did not ask. He followed him out to an unfamiliar part of campus, surprised with the amount of activity around them despite the late hour. They ducked around a corner, and Kanda found himself in front of the gym.

"In the gym?" he said, incredulous.

"Yeah, they practice here."

"But you can't even get in here."

"I have a fake student ID."

"How—"

"I know one of the ladies at the card office."

"God…" said Kanda under his breath.

"I know," said Tyki with an arched eyebrow. "You should be so happy I'm not a serial killer—think of all the places I can get into without authorized access."

Kanda privately agreed. They swiped in without any problems, and Tyki guided him with the confidence of one who had been here many times before. They went to one of the lower floors where there were a series of studios with mirrors lining all the walls. They traveled to the edge of the otherwise deserted hallway; Kanda looked through the glass and saw Iris in the center of the floor, her hair tied up in a ponytail as she twirled in one place.

"Here," said Tyki, pushing the door open.

Kanda was greeted by obnoxiously loud music; he frowned immediately, but followed Tyki to the sidelines where several other people were sitting. They all waved at Tyki and looked curiously at Kanda, but he ignored them and instead focused on the people performing.

Iris was dancing with a male dancer that Kanda did not recognize. Clearly concentrating, she gave no acknowledgment of his presence, instead focusing solely on her reflection. Dressed in only a tank-top and leggings, her entire profile looked incredibly thin, lithe, and dexterous. She moved with a precision of one who was accustomed to miniscule movements, but also with a latent energy that only accompanied passion.

"Salsa," said Tyki. "My favorite."

The male dancer caught Iris as she fell backward; she twisted her body in his arms and propelled herself over his shoulder, landing behind him. Her hands against his back; she slid down, her leg gracefully swinging in a circular motion over the floor. He hopped over it, landing in front of her. He brought her up, then leaned her back; his hand slid up her leg as she stretched her entire body linearly, her hands grasping like some wanting flower. They froze, and only when the clapping started did Kanda realize that the music had finally stopped.

"Oh, Iris," said the redhead Kanda recognized to be Annabelle. She rushed forward to Iris, who gave her partner a brief hug and a smile. "You are—_mm_—so wonderful! You saved our showcase; that was brilliant!"

"Thanks," said Iris, panting slightly. "Mark's great. You guys got a bunch of good freshmen."

"So the next number…you can take a quick break…actually, we'll just call this one the last one for the night. You can go, if you want."

"No, it's okay. I'll rest, and once you all clear out, I'll practice alone."

"It's already been three hours!"

"It's okay, I was just meaning to practice until midnight."

"You want me to stay?" offered the partner.

"Oh…up to you, Mark. You were perfect, so it's really me just trying to correct my mistakes," laughed Iris.

"You're just being modest," he grinned. "This was only our first practice—you are incredible."

"I've done something like this before," she said, blushing. "I can pick it up pretty quickly."

"Okay, next number, clear the floor!" shouted Annabelle.

Iris waved to Mark, indicating that she was going to sit elsewhere, and made a beeline for where Tyki and Kanda were sitting.

"Hey, babe, thanks for coming," she said, kneeling down and kissing Tyki fully.

"Mm…" He brought her down to sit on his knees. "Hey…"

Kanda cleared his throat.

"Hi to you too, Kanda," she murmured, finally breaking off the kiss. "Glad you could make it."

"I had nothing to do," he said offhandedly.

Which was a lie—he'd only written "The Demographics of the Modern American Family, Yuu Kanda" on an otherwise blank Word document that was supposed to be his five-page sociology paper.

"Did you like what you saw?" she asked.

Kanda paused before he answered. There was no denying it—Iris was as charismatic, as magnetic on stage as she was in person.

"Yeah," he admitted. "It looked good."

"You should come to the showcase," she said brightly. "Friday after next. So I have a ton to perfect before then."

"You gonna be okay?" said Tyki. "Sounds like you'll be really busy."

"Yeah, but I think it'll be fine. But they're holding a small party at Annabelle's apartment this Friday—you wanna go?"

"I don't hold a preference, one way or another."

"Kanda?" she said. "You wanna go?"

"Do I ever?" he said distastefully.

"I know several people who want you to go."

"Che. No thanks."

"C'mon, give them a break. Do you know Lou Fa? She's your year."

"No."

"She's really sweet, actually. One of the few people I'm nice to but don't mind. She said she saw you coming out of Arts one day and has really wanted to talk to you since."

"I don't care."

"She's nice," she said coaxingly.

"No."

"I'll convince you later this week," she said. "Tyki, leave Friday open?"

"Yeah, I'll try." Tyki looked over at Annabelle and then lowered his voice, which did not make a difference considering the blaring music ensured that no one could overhear them. "I thought you hated Annabelle?"

"I was incredibly rude to her the other day…" said Iris slowly. "I thought I would try and remedy myself."

"Why does it matter?" said Kanda rudely.

"…She's rich," said Iris. "She has connections. Connections are good."

"So?" he demanded. "Aren't you smart, capable—why do you need connections?"

"Oh, Kanda," she sighed. "Everyone needs connections. The world operates based on who you know, not how smart you are. Intelligence is worth nothing. The hierarchy is like this: connections," She waved her hand above her head, "then looks," she waved a little lower, "then smarts." She waved even lower. "That's the way the world works, honey."

"It doesn't mean you have to suck up to everybody you meet."

Iris rolled her eyes. "Hey, I didn't choose the rules. I just follow them."

"You need me to give you a ride back?" said Tyki, toying with a free strand of Iris's hair.

"Do you have something you need to do?"

"I think I'm supposed to go to my family's place tonight, actually. I can wait though."

"How urgently do they need you at home?"

"I think I'll be okay," Tyki said thoughtfully. "I don't feel particularly safe leaving you to Kanda to walk you home."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Kanda brusquely.

"That your looks really don't help when it comes to warding off muggers."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Yeah, but still," said Tyki, reaching over and touching Kanda's silky hair, "might help to chop this off, man."

"Don't touch me," he hissed, jerking away.

"I like it," mused Iris as she leaned on Tyki's chest. "It makes him so different."

"His face is already fifty percent female—the hair tips him over the edge."

"But cutting it off is such a shame…but hey, Kanda, if you ever make a wig out of it, can I have it?"

"What? No, that's disgusting."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Woman, I came all the way here and saw you dance for five minutes. Go do something more productive."

"You want to stay for the entire hour?"

"I'm staying until Tyki decides to drive home."

"You're going to be bored," she said. "Want to help me practice?"

"What? No. Don't touch me."

"It's dancing," she assured him. "Nothing too sexual, promise."

"It's worth it," added Tyki. "It's very attractive."

The last dance had just finished, and the club was filing out the doors. Annabelle came over to thank Iris again, accompanied by Mark, who introduced himself to Tyki and Kanda and once again said that Iris was amazing.

"He likes you," said Tyki in a sing-song voice as they left.

"I don't like younger guys," said Iris.

"Doesn't change the fact that he likes you."

"I am _sitting_ on you, Tyki—if that doesn't say I'm taken, then I don't know what does. I'm not interested," She stood up and stretched. "C'mon, Kanda, we'll make this quick."

"I don't want to," he said sullenly.

"Please?"

"No," he said, but Iris had already seized his hand and was dragging him upright. "Damn it, woman, I can't _dance_—I don't _want_ to—"

"You don't have to do anything," she said gently, guiding him to the center of the room. "Just follow my lead, okay? Here. Tyki, start track five."

A slow, Latin dance song started playing. Iris brought Kanda's arms up to her waist as they waited for a main melodic line. Unable to avoid looking at their reflections, Kanda felt incredibly uncomfortable and foolish as Iris twisted quickly around in his arms, stopping when they were once again face-to-face.

"I'm trying to help," she said quietly so that only he could hear her, though he knew she would recount this conversation to Tyki later. "You need to get over your phobia."

"What phobia?" he heard himself snarling.

"Oh, come on. You hate skinship. And I'm saying you don't always have to be afraid of it. It doesn't have to always be sexual even if it's seductive," she said, linking her arms around his neck and then rolling out of his reach in one fluid motion. "When I say so, dip me over your arm."

"I—"

"Now." She rolled back in, her back touching his chest, and then she leaned on his right arm. He unconsciously dipped her down so that her head was almost touching the floor; his face hovered over hers for but a brief second before he brought her back up, and she continued to circle around him. She stopped behind him, her profile barely visible from behind his body.

"Not bad," she said. "You seem to be really fit. That wasn't too bad, was it?"

She brought her hands up to his chest, and he stiffened immediately.

"Relax," she said, sliding down behind him. "I'm not doing anything."

Kanda counted the seconds as he watched their reflection; one beat, two beats, three beats—her hands were on his hips; she crouched behind him and then swung around before sliding up his front.

"Uncomfortable?" she challenged as she straightened up, her left hand garlanding his neck.

"…It's fine," he said curtly, unwilling to lose.

"Good boy."

He bristled at the address. "Stop acting like I'm some dog you're training."

"Not a dog…just a little boy," she said with a cryptic grin. "You're doing well. Not that bad, right?"

"I'm not that young—"

"Nineteen," she said, breathing against his ear as she turned around so that they were face to face. Her hands slid to his and brought his arms up. "Not old enough."

"Right," he said coolly. "You don't like younger guys?"

"Not really," she said apologetically. "You're gorgeous, but…not my taste."

"What's your taste?" he challenged, feeling more in control. They were moving slightly, circling around each other, one beat at a time; her touch was warm and she was unbelievably…magnetic. Yet he found himself breathing steadily, and the discomfort had faded away into a dull annoyance.

"Older," she answered, spinning out.

He pulled her in. "How much older?"

Her eyes glinted; she knew who he was referring to.

"Much," she whispered.

"Enough to say he's a sex offender?"

"Crass. But perhaps." She backtracked out of his hold so that she was several feet away, and then beckoned to him. "Count to three. You're going to lift me up."

He didn't have time to protest; she ran towards him without further warning and then jumped. He caught her by the waist and propelled her over his shoulder. She flipped in midair and landed gracefully behind him.

"Ooh, very nice," she said. "And one, two, three…stop."

The song ended right when she waved her hand in a finishing flourish; she had pretty much done all the work, but it wasn't like Kanda had actually been dancing, thank God. He felt more like a pole with hands, following directions and lifting her up when he was supposed to. But Iris seemed pleased with the result.

"Not too bad?" she suggested.

"I didn't really do anything."

"Well," she shrugged, "you touched me of your own volition. I'd say that's improvement."

"What's the point?"

"If you aren't afraid of touching someone, then you'll be less afraid of them touching you," she explained patiently. "I'm just trying to help. Another song?"

"No," he said shortly. "I need to go back."

"What for? I thought you said you didn't have anything to do."

"I lied—I have a five page paper due tomorrow."

"…Have you started?" said Iris sternly.

"I wrote my name."

"Kanda…"

"And title."

"Fine," she groaned, "we'll go home. Tyki…"

"Done already?"

"Not really, but this moron has a paper due tomorrow that he hasn't written. I'll just go home and help him write it and then crash."

"You're helping me?" said Kanda, surprised.

"Well…yeah," she said in a condescending tone. "You're not capable of chugging out a five-page paper in two hours."

"Two hours?"

"Kids need to be in bed by two," she grinned.

Kanda frowned. She was treating him like a child who was just learning how to walk. He was taller than her by two heads and a little more. He could probably snap her neck in two effortlessly. He was not a child and did not want to be seen as one.

But Iris, as always, never listened.

* * *

He wanted to believe that strangely enough, they were getting…closer. Somehow. Or maybe it wasn't that they were getting closer, but he found it easier to deal with her. He couldn't pinpoint exactly how, except for the times that Iris actually helped him with his schoolwork (she'd outlined his entire paper in an hour and a half). Other than that, though, their relationship involved much sniping and confrontation. She pushed him out of his comfort zone constantly, bothering him when he wanted to be left alone, nagging for him to be social.

"The world _needs_ you to be more social, Kanda."

"No, it doesn't," he snapped.

"How are you ever going to succeed in life if you're not more social? You go to Columbia, but that degree isn't going to guarantee you a job!"

"Tiedoll is more than willing to fund a socially incompetent person."

"And you're happy with that?"

"I can say that I don't particularly care."

When he opposed her much-too-forward advances, he was met with increasingly dry and nonchalant responses.

"Just trying to help, kiddo."

"One," he hissed through gritted teeth, "I'm not a _kid_. Two, I don't _need help_."

"Mm-hm."

"Woman!"

But he was never legitimately angry—only irritated. Iris knew this, which was why she didn't bother correcting herself. Instead, she seemed to know that he was starting to depend on her, even if it was in the slightest. Lavi wasn't there, and so his emotional and mental crutch was temporarily displaced. He found a new one in Iris, for as long as they were being serious, she was just as logical as Lavi, though a tad more sarcastic and cruel. That, and she always liked to challenge him, urging him to "expand his horizons."

"Come to the party tonight," she said early Friday evening. It was the earliest Kanda had seen her at home that week; in fact, she hadn't been home much at all. Practice had eaten up much of her time, and Kanda never saw her for more than an hour at a time. She was in the kitchen, sitting at the counter on one of the stools as Kanda flipped absentmindedly through his Art History textbook.

"You don't have practice?" he said.

"No, taking a break."

"Shouldn't you sleep?"

"I'm fine," she said, waving the spoon in her hand. She was eating ice cream out of the tub. "Seriously, come. Socialize a bit."

"For the last time, no. I don't want to get shitfaced and…I don't know; what _do_ you do after that?"

"Hookup," she answered.

Kanda grimaced. "No thanks."

Iris peered over her pint of Ben and Jerry's. "Have you hooked up with anyone?"

"You tell me, Sherlock."

"No?"

"Go figure."

"Hookups are overrated, but I find you to be a waste," she sighed, her feet dangling several inches off the floor as she kicked them back and forth. "You're so _hot_, Kanda. Shouldn't you…you know, share the wealth a little?"

He'd gotten used to her very inappropriate comments by now. "No."

"C'mon, have you ever kissed someone?"

He didn't answer and instead flipped the page. Iris deduced the correct answer from his silence.

"No?" she said, almost whining, as if it were a heinous crime. "Oh, Kanda…I wish you'd been born ugly…"

"So do I," he snapped.

She realized they were walking on eggshells again. She set her ice cream down, climbed off the stool, and idled over to him.

"Kanda?" she said gently, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of him.

"What?" he said irritably.

"Have other people kissed you?" she questioned.

He met her gaze with a glare. She betrayed no emotions—no pity, no elation, just curiosity. Damn it, this woman…he couldn't read her; he sensed no malice, but this was a subject he hated and she knew it.

"Do I have to answer?" he demanded.

"…Yes," she said compellingly.

"Why?"

"Because it will make you feel better."

"Why do _you_ know what makes me feel better—"

"Kanda."

"…Yes." The word was forced out of him.

"Okay," she said in that same gentle tone. She had known the answer beforehand. "You know what we should try?"

"No. I don't care."

"We should practice kissing."

He took a few seconds to absorb and process. "_What_?"

"Tonight," she said evenly, "you are going to hook up with someone and blow her mind away. But in order to do that, you need to practice. I can teach you the basics."

"Woman, you are _crazy_—"

She suddenly leaned very close to him so that their eyes were level. He stopped talking immediately.

"Uncomfortable?" she said.

"…Obviously," he said through gritted teeth.

"Good. So. My hands are here," she said, waving them on either side of her. "I'm going to sit on them, okay? So I can't touch you, got that?"

"What are you doing—"

"You are going to kiss me."

"_I don't want to_."

"Do you want me to kiss you instead?"

"No, why do we have to do this?" He tried leaning back, but she leaned forward to follow him.

"I'll sit on you," she said in a soft threat as she arched an eyebrow.

"Don't you _dare_."

"C'mon, just kiss me. Don't you find me pretty?"

"No—"

"I'm pretty, okay?" she said defensively. "Just one kiss, Kanda. It's not a big deal. I'm sitting on my hands, I won't touch you. It can last as short as you like."

"Look, if I do this," he said, annoyed beyond belief, "you stop bothering me about some stupid party."

"If you're terrible beyond help, we'll consider it."

"No, there's nothing in it for me—"

"I'll do your homework," she said. "This weekend's worth."

"No," he said sourly, "you have practice and no time to begin with—you should…"

His voice trailed off as he realized that he had instinctively expressed his concern for her much-too-busy schedule. Iris caught it as well, and she smiled.

"Thanks," she said sincerely. "I appreciate that you care. But it's okay. I'll just give you a rain-check, okay? I'll do what_ever_ you want, even if it means not bother you for…an hour. Deal?"

It was a dumb deal, and obviously one that he shouldn't have even considered. He only grimaced.

"Two hours," she said coaxingly.

"The entire week," he said.

"Won't you be lonely?"

"Che. As if."

"Suit yourself." She smiled. "I'm waiting."

He hesitated, causing Iris to finally frown.

"Oh, come _on_, Kanda, it's not like I'm making you eat a bowl of worms, and I'm _not_ hideous so it's not like this will be distasteful, and—"

He leaned forward abruptly, his lips touching hers. Iris held true to her promise and made no movement to touch him. Instead, it was Kanda who, after getting over his repulsion for the cookies-and-cream taste, hesitantly deepened it. His hands moved unconsciously; he touched her neck, bringing her closer and kissing her heavily. What exactly possessed him was beyond his comprehension, especially when at the moment, nothing ruled him more than a very unfamiliar physical pull. An urge, a…he wasn't thinking, his lips were just touching hers and then he brushed her lower lip with his tongue. He thought he heard Iris gasp slightly but he wasn't certain, he just knew that she liked it and so did he, actually, so he did it again, pressing his tongue against her lip and then taking it in his teeth lightly. It was unmistakable now; she made a noise close to a sigh, except it was a little louder than that, and he felt her kissing him back. This alarmed him, but she caught herself immediately and stopped. Slightly wary but not entirely unpleased, he deepened it again, his tongue experimenting, slipping into her mouth—

"Okay," she gasped, breaking it off. "That's enough."

Kanda just sat there, staring dumbly. Why had she stopped?

Wait. In fact…why hadn't _he_ stopped? He didn't know how long that had gone on for—seconds, minutes, maybe even hours—no, not hours, he was stupid, of course that hadn't been for hours—but minutes? He'd let it last for minutes?

And…he had…_liked_ it?

He struggled to remain impassive. He didn't want to seem like some overtly excited child—in fact, what if that had been terrible—what if Iris had hated it, actually, she probably had hated it and that was why she had broken it off—

"That was your first time," she said seriously in confirmation, emphasizing the "first" very heavily.

Kanda just nodded.

"Oh…oh my." She stood up somewhat dazedly, pushing her chair back. "I…I have absolutely nothing to teach you."

"It was that bad?" he said, unable to expect anything else.

"Bad?" she repeated, blinking rapidly. It was as if she hoped blinking could eliminate the blush on her cheeks, except it didn't, because she was unmistakably red. "Bad, oh, God, no. No, no, no. Kanda, that was the…the best kiss I've ever had, and because it was, I have absolutely nothing to teach you—instead I've been reduced to a pile of babbling nonsense—oh, my, goodness, I need to calm down…"

It took several seconds for him to process this revelation, but for some reason, it made him feel very…good about himself. After being called a "kid" so much, he was glad to see that he could have an incredible impact on her, despite that he wasn't really sure what he'd done to garner such praise.

The door to the apartment opened, and since only one other person had the key, neither of them bothered to inquire who it was.

"Hello," said Tyki, appearing in front of them with a case of beer in his hand. He looked at both of them, perplexed. Iris was staring stubbornly away from Kanda, and Kanda happened to be very smug. "What happened between you two?"

"Tyki," said Iris suddenly, striding over to him.

"Yes?"

She looked determinedly up at him. "I need you to give me the _best_ kiss you can manage."

Tyki looked confused. "Babe, I always give you the best."

"No, I need you to work for it," she said. "Keep in mind: _the_ best. Blow me away—I demand it."

"…Oh…kay…"

He leaned down without further ado and kissed her ardently. Kanda determinedly looked elsewhere, wondering what exactly Iris was aiming to gain from this—perhaps it would make her feel better, as if she'd had a temporary lapse in judgment…

"No!" she said, pulling away.

"…No?" said Tyki, bewildered.

"No, it's…ugh, I can't believe it…"

"…I'm offended, Iris, so please explain," said Tyki darkly.

"It wasn't bad," she said offhandedly. "It was quite good, actually…"

"But?" prompted Tyki.

"You're going to be upset."

"I already am, but no harm making it worse."

"The best kiss I've ever had has been taken by a virgin," she said tartly.

"…What?" Tyki sounded scandalized. "Who?"

"Meet yours truly," she said, pointing her thumb at Kanda.

"…You _kissed_?" said Tyki disbelievingly. "He kissed you? And it was _good_? And he's a _virgin_?"

"I am not deaf," said Kanda angrily. "What's the big deal?"

Tyki ignored Kanda and instead spoke explicitly to Iris. "He was good?"

"Oh, excellent," she said convincingly.

"Get up," ordered Tyki, passing Iris and going over to Kanda.

"Why?" said Kanda suspiciously.

"We're going to kiss so I can see what exactly makes you so good."

Kanda scooted his chair as far backwards as he could.

"Fuck, no!"

"What, it's not like Iris cares—"

"That would be interesting," she added. "I think I'd enjoy that."

"No way in fucking hell."

"But then how am I going to know what I'm doing wrong?" said Tyki, as if his world was crumbling down. "I'm supposed to be good at all this stuff, not you…"

"Look, it was probably just an accident," said Kanda snappishly. "Now that I kissed you, woman, you are going to leave me alone for the rest of the week and not nag me about some stupid party—"

"No, you have to go—I bet Lou Fa will just _melt_."

"I don't want to go and make out with someone—leave me _alone_, woman."

"But—"

"Why," he interrupted angrily, "would I want to go and make out with someone I don't even know? In fact, why would I go and even willingly come in contact with someone I hate—"

"You've never met her, how would you know—"

"I hate the majority of the world!" he exploded. "I don't want to come in contact with them, nor do I care how the rest of the world operates. Just because you have to fulfill all this stupid social obligations doesn't mean you have to drag me along to them—just because you can go and hook up with someone because you feel like it doesn't mean I have to—just because you're devoid of feeling anything when you make out with someone doesn't—"

"Okay," said Iris sharply.

Kanda took in a deep breath and exhaled.

"Tyki, could you excuse us for a bit?" she said.

Tyki looked startled at the request, but nodded. "Okay, I'll be in your room."

"Thanks."

Iris waited until the door closed before she rounded on Kanda.

"First things first," she said coolly. "Sorry for nagging. I won't force you to go if you really don't want to. I just thought it would be good if you stopped being such a hermit."

"I like being one, actually," said Kanda acidly.

"Fine. Second, they're not stupid obligations. Just because you have parents who will fund a socially incompetent person who can't get anywhere in the world doesn't mean I do."

"I—"

"I do what I have to do get ahead," she said, plowing right through his sentence. "I go and socialize because I can't be left defenseless. So sorry, honey, when I'm trying to make you go and hang out with people so you can establish connections. I don't go to hook up with people—I go to make myself present. I told you to go and make out with someone—half-jokingly, half-serious—because it would be good for you to get over your phobia, especially when there's no emotion involved."

"I have no interest," he said in the same tone.

"Point proven," she said acerbically. "Third, I'm not a robot, I actually have feelings—"

"You do a great job showing that—"

"And sometimes," she said dangerously, her eyes flashing, "you press my buttons so much that I could literally just throw you out the window. Don't imply that I'm a slut who just throws herself around. I'm just capable of separating body from mind, which it appears you cannot."

"What are you trying to say?" he said furiously.

"Nothing," she said icily. She leaned over the table so that they were face-to-face. "Just remember," she whispered, "I don't like younger guys."

She straightened up and headed for her room, slamming the door behind her. Kanda let out a breath.

Well, there had to be a first time for everything. He'd just pissed off Iris Fairing.

* * *

Iris went to her room, ignored Tyki as he smoked by her desk, and fell wordlessly on her bed.

"…Iris?" said Tyki.

"Put out the cig," she said shortly.

She heard Tyki sigh, and after several seconds, felt the bed dip down towards the left as he lied down next to her.

"Iris?" he said gently.

She rolled over on her side and faced him. Tyki brought a hand up to her head and massaged it, causing her to let out a breath and close her eyes.

"Why isn't everyone in the world just like you?" she said after a momentary pause.

"Well…you'd be bored to death if they were."

"No," she sighed. "I think I'd die without you."

"Comforting," he said dryly. "What's wrong?"

"Kanda," she muttered. "Don't know why I deal with him."

"Because you like him. You're always like this when he makes you feel insecure—what'd he say this time?"

This was the first time she had visibly shown Kanda that she was angry; Kanda was actually wrong—he'd pissed her off two times before. Except the previous two times, she'd managed to contain herself until she was alone. The first was when he'd half-heartedly suggested that she hadn't really been bullied and that she was just seeking attention. She'd replied with a simple "Believe what you want to believe," but then she'd returned to her room and seethed for a good five minutes, though Tyki kindly pointed out that it was probably because she was upset that she hadn't been as convincing as she was used to. The second time was when she'd referred to the people in her group as "incompetent idiots who are only useful for their money," to which Kanda had answered evenly that not everyone in the world was a stepping stone. That, for some reason, had pissed her off too.

"He makes me feel like an awful person," she said.

"Mm-hm," said Tyki patiently. "How?"

"He's just so…naïve. People don't help you unless you do something in their favor. The world just doesn't have people popping into your life when you need them to. I want him to understand that just because his adoptive dad will support him or whatever…" Iris frowned. "Basically, I wish he knew that people actually have to _work_ to achieve something."

"You don't exactly enforce that when you're practically doing his homework for him."

"But I want him to realize that I'm a connection," she said, frustrated. "I'm a _resource_, and other people are too. Nothing is going to come to you in life on a silver platter. He's such a…a child."

"Perhaps," said Tyki. "But you have to understand that not everyone is like you, Iris. Some people live in their…innocent worlds and it just works out for them. You don't need to force people to become like you."

"I'm not…" She digested for a second. "…So perhaps I am. But I just don't want him to seem so defenseless. It's why people can take advantage of him. Not everyone lives with the same morals and ethics he does."

"But some people do," insisted Tyki. "You just have to accept that. Move on."

Iris studied Tyki closely. Sometimes, she had to wonder just what went on in Tyki's mind. His problems were very different from hers, but he was always pragmatic and convincing. Perhaps it was because the stress for him was so different. Iris didn't really know what stressed Tyki out, honestly.

"Hon?" he said.

"You're right," she said. "Thanks."

He tousled her hair. "No problem. Should you get ready now?"

"…I don't feel like going," she admitted.

"And that's fine."

"But—"

"Iris, if you don't leave time for yourself, you're going to burn out sooner than you think. Not everything in the world is a chore. It's okay to relax."

"Fine…I'll just text her later and say I'm not going then."

"Good girl. So, how exactly did you get Kanda to kiss you?"

"Just goaded him and bribed him," she said. "Wasn't too hard."

"And he was really good?"

"Absolute surprise, I know. But it was quite a good kiss."

"Just a…point," said Tyki casually. "He said that just because _you_ were devoid of feeling anything when you kiss doesn't mean he is."

"And?"

"So doesn't that mean he feels something for you?"

"…I already warned him," she said nonchalantly. "I don't like younger guys."

"Why, exactly?"

"Immature."

"Seriously, that's a pathetic reason."

"I don't know," she said exasperatedly. "The two people I've actually felt anything for are older than I am, and that's all. There's not a particular preference or something."

"Iris." Tyki's tone had taken on a level of seriousness that she knew she wasn't going to appreciate.

"What?" she said cautiously.

"Are you still waiting?"

She knew what he was implying.

"No," she said easily.

"…You need to let go. He's not coming back, and even if he does, it's not like he ever loved you or anything—"

"Tyki."

His grip on her shoulder tightened. "Okay."

"Kanda's not an option," she said heavily.

"…Why not?"

She scoffed. "Why would he like me? He thinks I'm crazy and terrible. He couldn't deal with me for long."

"Iris, I've already told him and I've told you multiple times—you're a fortune to have on my side. Anyone should appreciate that."

"I don't think everyone thinks that way, Tyki."

They fell into silence, with Iris staring at the ceiling and trying to think.

"Just promise me you're not still waiting," he sighed, rolling her around as he wrapped his arms more tightly around her body.

"I'm not," she said absentmindedly.

She looked over his shoulder at the glass swan on her windowpane. Tyki didn't know who it was from, and she was going to keep it that way.

She didn't like children because they were ignorant and hadn't heard the rumors. Guys her age tended to stay away because they knew the rumors. And they probably all knew anyway.

She was still waiting.

* * *

_free talk_:

hi! thanks for all your responses—you all have been so supportive. :) it makes me want to cry...haha jk but seriously.

hope you all are having fun watching the olympics! woo-hoo fostering international relationships!

kk, well hope you enjoyed :) please review!  
xoxo,  
m.n


	5. Statues and the Unwanted

**Chapter 5: Statues and the Unwanted**

There were many words to describe Cross Marian.

Genius. Womanizer. Enigma. He admitted to all of the above. And then there were adjectives. Perceptive. Eerie. Distant. He admitted to these as well. There was nothing more attractive than being unreadable.

And then there were the words that his many enemies hissed behind his back: callous, pompous, self-absorbed, ego-as-big-as-the-Met-and-as-historical-too, ostentatious, overrated, nightmare, inconsiderate—the list went on and on. And as hurtful as some of these words were, he could not deny these either—except for perhaps "overrated." He was not overrated. He was literally just that great.

Though there were many words that described him, Cross Marian was, if anything, an incredibly well-cultured and educated man. Despite his reputation as a heartless womanizer whose only purpose was to be surrounded by the three beauties of life—women, money, and wine—he was, in fact, an incredible scholar and influence on various spheres of interest. With triple degrees from Harvard (his CV: Cross Marian, B.S., J.D., Ph.D., _summa cum laude_, Phi Beta Kappa, Fox Club member), he was a forward thinker, an eloquent speaker, and if one was unfortunate, the worst enemy possible.

Known for his sharp tongue, unabashed but painfully spot-on critiques, and inflated ego, Cross Marian had few friends and many enemies. He trusted close to no one, and truthfully, one could spend a year in his presence, three-hundred and sixty-five days, twenty-four hours per day, and still be unable to predict his next course of action. Despite his spontaneity, Cross Marian never seemed purposeless, which made him all the more formidable and quite honestly, frightening.

He was an older, bespectacled man whose rugged and doubtlessly handsome looks led to no dearth of willing female companionship; he was clearly not a husband figure, but rather suited the role of the irresistible, erudite lover who could never settle down. Yet he was not without weakness. His confidence, always brimming, led him to be a reckless gambler; from an onlooker's perspective, he was a man so full of his own capabilities that he believed he could control Lady Luck and Chance. He could not. Lady Luck was the one woman he could not woo.

This led to a string of issues for Cross Marian, but he had acquaintances in high places—mostly women—who always managed to help him worm out of sticky financial situations. Still, it did not hurt to relocate often, and so he hardly stayed in the same location for extended periods of time. This was not an exceptionally bothersome activity. It allowed him to see the world, understand humans from a broader perspective, unconstrained by the cultural expectations of one country. He did not identify as an American, but rather saw himself as a near superhuman figure that transcended all societal constraints and obligations.

He rarely missed the people he created relationships with. Most women he affiliated with knew that he was but a temporary presence. Those who got too attached were troublesome, but he disappeared so often that they did not bother him much.

He was, after all, not a man who could afford more weaknesses than one.

* * *

When Iris Fairing first met Tyki Mikk, she'd treated him none too kindly. He was not the first person she'd met who had piqued her interest, but he was the first who had persisted despite her cruel treatment. This made Tyki Mikk an absolutely invaluable friend. She truthfully did not know what she would have done without him. She depended on him like none other; sometimes, their understanding of each other frightened her. But that was a risk she had known from the start—piquing her interest meant that the person had the capability of getting painfully close.

Their first meeting had been pure chance. Iris was in her final year of high school. It was around the time that most girls tended to "blossom." Iris had not been a particularly beautiful child or even teenager, but in senior year, she solidified her reputation of perfection with this unexpected but certainly welcome bout of beauty. She lost the baby fat on her face while retaining her bodily curves, leading to an overall impression of a mature and chaste young woman. Sadly, her height showed no signs of changing, but Iris decided that this was an aspect she would just have to get over. She could not complain: she was one of the fortunate.

Iris lived in the suburbs of New York. She hadn't been entirely truthful with Kanda—her parents were not just "restaurant owners"—they owned a chain of restaurants. Small, certainly, but she was by no means poor. True, she hadn't been as affluent as many of her peers, but wealth was only deniable up to a certain degree. Any common American would have classified Iris as one of the "one percent" who owned ninety-nine percent of the American economy. This tiny and truthfully ignorable detail indicated that she hadn't been entirely truthful to Kanda about a lot of things, but that in itself was just a minor inconvenience.

Iris met Tyki when her BMW broke down in the middle of the highway, when she was driving home from school. It was a scene from a movie; pretty, innocent girl gets stranded, and gorgeous, rich man stops by to aid her, and is in turn thanked with a dinner date and sex afterward. Except Iris actually hated movies, when women could seemingly only thank princes in shining armor with their bodies rather than with an intellectually stimulating conversation, and the sheer fact that her BMW, of all cars, had broken down in the middle of the highway already infuriated her enough that Tyki merely seemed like a nosey man who was eager to get her in bed.

In their first conversation, Tyki vehemently denied this, but the fact remained and after the two of them became friends, he'd admitted it shamelessly. "No harm done," he said. "Almost every girl I've met has said yes. With enthusiasm, I might add. Only you actually thought my help was unnecessary."

In fact, Iris had deemed his assistance so unnecessary that she had struggled with the car for over half an hour before she'd given up. This was a simultaneously admirable yet stupid accomplishment because in all honesty, Iris knew nothing about cars and had only persevered out of sheer stubbornness. She'd found herself grudgingly accepting Tyki's advice and offer to drive her home, but of course, not before a quick bite at a diner on the way there. During dinner, Iris was cool and haughty, the perfect bitch-attitude that commonly put men off, but Tyki was unperturbed and even receptive. He was entirely unfazed with her accusations that he was a sex offender, pointing out that he was in no way forcing her to do anything, and that he had no intention of doing anything other than driving her home. And giving her his number.

The fact that he had given her his number rather than demanding hers made Iris think that Tyki was playing games with her. Two could play the same game. Iris was relentless; she exploited Tyki, made him drive her literally _everywhere_ while her car was in the repair shop, and made him pay for everything. She acted ridiculously spoiled, two-faced, annoying, and superficial.

He, needless to say, saw through it all and dealt with it. It amazed her.

Tyki would later admit that he was positively intrigued by her and could not tell if it was a physical or mental attraction—both, most likely. Yet it was clear later to Iris that it was the same for her—though more mental than anything. She had finally found someone just as odd as she was, and their relationship was startlingly mutual as they began to uncover things about each other. Not just information—but personality. Little traits, anticipated reactions. It took several months for Iris to finally realize that she felt unbelievably comfortable around Tyki, though this realization caused her no little fright. In her one vulnerable conversation with him that revolved around him, she admitted that she could not stand to be betrayed by him, and that if he did betray her, she could, without exaggeration, die. By this point, Tyki understood her very well. The feeling was mutual. They were inexplicably dependent on each other. And so their solution was to remain that way, bordering boyfriend-girlfriend, but the relationship was almost analogous to an incestuous bond between siblings. Only Iris thought of it this way—she'd mentioned it to Tyki once, but Tyki actually had siblings. He'd wrinkled his nose, declared that it was borderline disgusting, and that he could not bear to think about it that way. And so Iris kept it to herself, because she could not deny that there was _definitely_ a sexual attraction between the two of them, despite that they'd insisted to keep things platonic.

They'd kept things platonic for a surprising amount of time (minus an unexplainable kiss or two). Sometimes, Iris thought that she was in love with Tyki, if at least only mentally. He was a little too one-dimensional in some places, but maybe no one was perfect and Iris just had to accept that she was never going to meet someone who made her feel like her heart was going to explode out of excitement.

But then Iris met Cross Marian, and she realized she hadn't been in love with Tyki at all.

She hadn't even been close.

* * *

Iris waited for the dance showcase with growing trepidation. Not because she was worried about her performance—she knew she was exhilarating on stage—but because she knew dancing made her very vulnerable. Most people would attribute it to passion, but the reason she was so attractive on stage was because she expressed emotions that she normally stowed away. People who knew her well—or had a hint of what her "real" side was like—could pick up on the subtleties.

Previously, Iris had invited Kanda to the showcase on a whim. Now that she knew he was a good kisser, could potentially have feelings for her, and that she was in ways affected by him, she regretted this invitation very much. Yet it was not like she could rescind the invitation. She wouldn't have a good excuse as to why she didn't want him there.

So she tried different tactics.

She was terse with him. This, she knew, would offset him because she was hardly ever terse with him. If anything, Iris was always overflowing with (too) much affection for him, causing him to grow uncomfortable. When she showed this radical change in behavior, though, Kanda felt as if he'd done something wrong. Iris thought that this guilt would, rather than manifest as an apology, instead curdle into his familiar anger.

She was also unbearably nonchalant with his plans to going. Two days before the showcase, when Iris had just returned to the apartment late at night, she was surprised to find Kanda still awake. He was always a firm believer in early bedtimes—that, and Iris couldn't shake off the impression that he was like a kid who needed his beauty sleep—and so it was a rare sight to see him up and about past one a.m. He looked up at her from the sofa, where he was reading his sociology book. Iris made a mental note to see what page he was on because she was pretty damn sure he hadn't read more than five pages since the last time she'd seen him open the thing.

"Tyki drop you off?" said Kanda, adjusting his glasses.

"No, I took a cab." She let her bag down by the doormat. "Why are you still up?"

"Wanted to ask you a question."

"You could've texted me."

He ignored this remark. Clearly, he knew that as well—he'd been waiting to make sure she would get home safely. "Where am I supposed to get tickets for Friday?"

Iris shrugged. "Why do you want to go?"

Kanda frowned. "You invited me, Sherlock."

"That was just out of courtesy," she said. "I didn't think you would actually come."

"Too bad."

"Don't you have a midterm next Monday?"

"And now you're my agenda?"

"Look, you don't need to go. You don't like dancing anyway."

"Just tell me where to get the damn tickets."

"Figure it out yourself."

"Woman, what is your problem?!" said Kanda, his anger finally getting the better of him. "You've been like this all week—if you're _still_ pissed about whatever happened last week, well, you should've damn said something about it instead of being such a brat."

Good, Kanda was reacting well. As long as he could get angry, he wouldn't want to go.

"Whatever," she shrugged. "Just figure it out. I don't care if you're there or not."

But then, Kanda didn't follow the script. His frown deepened and he glared at her suspiciously.

"Why am I getting the feeling you don't want me to go?"

And then, Iris made the mistake.

"Because I _don't_."

She realized her mistake the moment she said it. She was not supposed to have expressed an opinion; she was supposed to be nonchalant about it, she was not supposed to care about what Kanda did at all—but expressing that she didn't want him to go meant that she was feeling antagonistic toward him, and those were feelings she didn't know how to explain.

Unfortunately, Kanda was not as stupid as she sometimes made him out to be.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Nothing," she said curtly. "I'm going to shower and sleep."

"Look," he said, "I don't know if it's nerves or not, but you need to relax. If you get all snappy and frustrated, you mess up during the performance."

"Like Tyki during sex, I never mess up when it counts."

Kanda ignored this statement too. "Just take a break. You probably shouldn't rehearse by yourself tomorrow."

"It's none of your business."

"Stop bitching around," he said sourly. "You're clearly upset about something but won't tell me, which means you're probably just nervous or being mean like you always are. The semester's almost over—I'm used to it."

This placid response, for some reason, annoyed Iris. She strode over to him and, without preamble, tossed Kanda's sociology book onto the coffee table and sat down on his lap. Understandably and predictably, Kanda tensed up, but when he met her gaze, his eyes betrayed no fear.

"What are you doing?" he said.

"Let's make out," she suggested.

He looked completely bewildered. "You're fucking crazy."

"Didn't you say I needed to relax?"

"Get Tyki."

"He's got work tonight."

"And I'm not your rebound," said Kanda irritably. "Get off."

"Or what?"

Kanda arched an eyebrow. "You don't think I can push all one-hundred pounds of you off?"

Iris leaned closer so that their faces were only centimeters apart. Kanda's breath grew shallow; she was so close that she could literally taste the flavor of toothpaste he used—peppermint, Crest—and in her rose a surprising desire to repeat what they'd done several days ago. Kanda's face was so perfect. His skin was beautiful, his eyes a dark blue that she'd mistaken for black until now. This was different. She had felt none of this before that first kiss—before then, Kanda had almost been like a gay best friend, except not gay, and not a best friend. Perhaps an androgynous, metrosexual roommate minus any kind of sexual in between. That was why she'd suggested the kissing session—she did not think she was attracted to him, and one kiss would surely not change anything. Now, though, she was definitely attracted, if not incredibly lustful. Kanda's shoulders were broad and strong, his touch warm and his gaze piercing. He was not Iris's type. Too effeminate. But he was beautiful, undeniably so, and right now, Iris had to admit that for the first time, she was seeing Kanda as a man. The test? The mental image of Kanda naked made her hot.

Kanda looked wary, but Iris knew he was no longer as frightened of her as he used to be. Though this was what Iris had been urging him to do for the entire semester, she could not help but feel annoyed with all these changes. There was no longer the sense of domination she normally flourished off of—instead, they were leering dangerously close to a common playing field that Iris operated very poorly on.

"Done threatening me yet?" he said drily.

"You seem all cured," she said lightly.

"Of what?"

"Your phobia."

"Maybe," he said bluntly. "Maybe not."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

He didn't answer the question and instead let out a low growl. "Get _off_."

She obeyed, but only because she knew she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer sitting on his thighs. She rolled out onto the other side of the sofa.

"If something's wrong, or if I did something, just spit it out. If it's about last weekend…" Kanda rolled his eyes, "then you can hold a fucking long grudge about stupid things."

"I don't want you to come to the showcase," said Iris clearly.

He paused. "Why?"

"Because I don't want you to see me dance," she said. "I'll feel too vulnerable. I don't want you there."

"I've seen you dance before."

"Yes, but that was before I knew how you felt about me."

Kanda stared. "Feel about you?"

"Yes."

"Like…feelings?"

It was Iris's turn to stare. Maybe Kanda _was_ as dumb as she made him out to be.

"Yes. Feelings. Like emotions."

It took him several seconds to digest this. Iris let him think in silence.

"You think," he said finally, "I feel _feelings_ for you."

Dear God, exactly _how_ had Kanda managed to transfer to Columbia?

"Yes," she said patiently.

"As in…feelings that are…as if I like _like_ you," he said slowly.

What were they in, fifth grade?

"If you want to put it that way," she said sedately, "then sure."

Kanda smirked. "Yeah, okay. No."

Iris blinked. "What?"

"Give me five good reasons why I would have _like like_ feelings for you."

"…I'm pretty."

"Don't care."

"I'm smart."

"You're a smart-aleck, which annoys me."

"I'm your roommate."

"That wasn't really my choice. Believe me, I would've preferred Mark Epstein."

"You care about me."

"No—and how is that a reason?"

Iris finally pulled the truth card. "You like me because I _get_ you. I'm the first person to _get_ you since your friend Lavi. But unlike Lavi, I'm a girl, which means you actually are attracted to me."

Kanda did not have an immediate response. His smirk faded and he grew somber. Iris could tell that she'd hit the nail right on the head, and that Kanda himself had been contemplating these feelings he deemed "like like" for a while.

"No," he said at last. "Lenalee _gets_ me. I'm not attracted to her."

"Because Lavi liking her has made her off-limits," said Iris.

"No, it's because I'm not capable of feeling that way," said Kanda seriously.

A silence followed. Iris contemplated this statement. Kanda seemed to firmly believe it, but she did not.

"Incorrect," she said.

Kanda scowled. "How would you know?"

"Because I know you. Because I know you've had this conversation before, and that was the exact same thing you told Lavi. Because I know he told you that on the other hand, that was the _only_ possible explanation of why you put up with me." Iris held Kanda's gaze levelly. "You like me. More than you should. That makes me uncomfortable."

"And yet you just suggested that we make out," said Kanda sarcastically.

"I was gauging for a reaction."

"Look," he replied exasperatedly, "I've had these conversations with Lavi already. No matter what you guys think, _I_ am not capable of _being fond_ of someone. This should be enough to not weird you out."

"But I don't believe you," said Iris calmly. "And because I don't believe you, I am not comfortable with exposing myself on stage to you."

"Because you think that makes people fall in love with you." Iris did not miss the dripping acidity in his tone.

"Dunno. Maybe," she answered truthfully.

"So assuming that your ego is telling you the truth…why does that result bother you?" asked Kanda.

Iris took a few seconds. "I don't know."

"When Tyki said your dance partner liked you, you said you didn't care. So why does it bother you that I could potentially feel something stupid for you?"

_Uh-oh_, thought Iris. _Gray territory._

Her silent thoughts gave her away.

"You think you could feel something stupid for me," concluded Kanda.

Iris frowned. "Not quite. I don't think I could fall in love with you."

Kanda's face now mirrored hers. "Why?"

"Because I have a standard."

He looked insulted. "What?"

"I just have an experience to compare to when it comes to love," she said. "I don't think someone else could make me feel the same way."

"Mm-hm." He didn't believe her.

"No," she said. "I don't think it's love. I don't really know what it could be, honestly. I wish it was just physical. Then we could go into the bedroom and figure everything out. But I'm afraid it might be a little mental. As in you're so nice that it might end up affecting me."

"I'm _nice_?" blurted out Kanda incredulously. "What is _wrong_ with the world?"

Iris shrugged. "I mean, it's true. As much as you deny it. Everyone who knows you knows that you're soft."

"Yeah, okay," he said acidly.

Iris shrugged again. "Think what you will."

Kanda let out a breath. "Look, it shouldn't bother you. I don't like anyone. It just doesn't happen. I'm not nice. I'm probably the biggest…" He paused, as if racking his brains for a memory. "The most insensitive, socially clueless, emotionally-limited dickhead you've ever met."

She allowed herself a liminal smile. "Lavi tell you that?"

"More than once. The thing is, I don't _care_. I've never cared what other people think of me, and I never really gave a damn how the world operates. Your mentality and my mentality of 'living' or whatever are completely different. The world operates because I _make_ it operate. Not because I need other people to make it work." He glared at her. "So stop being so full of yourself and thinking that I _need_ you, or something stupid. And if you're worried about me influencing you to be nice…" His face scrunched up. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Kanda hadn't really gotten the point, but Iris doubted anyone other than Tyki could have read it. She merely nodded—if Kanda had taken so much effort and time to assuage the worries he'd misinterpreted, then she was not going to close him off.

"I have a ticket in my bag," she said. "I'll leave it on the breakfast counter tomorrow."

"Do you have a spare or two?"

"Yeah, why? You're bringing people?" she joked.

Kanda nodded.

"What?" she said, taken aback. "You have friends?"

"Lenalee," he said brusquely.

"Oh. Who else?"

Kanda grimaced, as if the prospect of his thoughts was as distasteful as—for him—a bowl of deep-fried chicken drenched in ranch.

"Lavi's visiting."

* * *

Iris was slightly nervous about Lavi's impending visit. Something about the situation felt as if she was the girlfriend asking Lavi for Kanda's hand in marriage. It wasn't as if Lavi rubbed her the wrong way…no, he was fine, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that she and Lavi were somehow two different people vying for the same position in Kanda's life: the interpreter. She knew Lavi held the same talent she did when it came to reading people, but Lavi seemed infinitely nicer, both inside and out. Which meant that of course, Kanda would choose Lavi over her, especially when she and Kanda had only recently become civil to each other.

She was equally disconcerted by the fact that Tyki would not be present for the showcase and the following weekend. He had returned home for a "family emergency," though that most likely meant Cyril missing his brother and making something disastrous up about Rhode to lure Tyki home. Tyki knew very well that his older brother had an overarching family complex, and that his little sister was actually quite all right, but he went nevertheless. Familial obligation was one of the few things Tyki followed loyally.

He'd apologized for his absence, but Iris could hardly begrudge him for it. He didn't go home enough, and unlike Iris, actually had a family he could enjoy. Not that Iris hated her family—it was just that her parents were too simple-minded to fully comprehend just how twisted their daughter was. She didn't burden them with the knowledge—she wouldn't want her daughter to turn out like her either.

Iris lent Kanda Tyki's BMW to pick Lavi up from the airport. ("I'm not kidding, Kanda. You scratch that thing, Tyki will _destroy_ us." "Che, as if. Won't the man do literally anything for you?" "You'd be pushing his override button, Kanda. Please. Don't scratch it. Actually, do you want me to drive?")

He'd, of course, denied with a vehement no. Iris had to go to warm-up practice, anyway, so with great anxiety, she handed over the keys. She could tell that Kanda was genuinely excited—well, as excited as his stoic expressions would allow. Boys and their toys.

She had enough to worry about.

* * *

"Sweet ride," said Lavi, tossing his luggage casually in the trunk of the car. "Whose is it?"

"Mine," said Kanda.

"Yeah, right. Seriously."

"Tyki's," he answered. "He's not here for the weekend so he lent it to Iris, who lent it to me."

"That's nice of them," said Lavi honestly, climbing into the backseat. He leaned over to the front and pecked Lenalee on the cheek. "Good to see you, Lenalee."

"Took you long enough," said Lenalee mildly, patting him on the head affectionately. She had been waiting in the car as Kanda had gone inside to find Lavi first.

"Not my fault—I had to wait for my bags. Any plans for tonight?"

"Iris's showcase," answered Lenalee, turning around to face Lavi fully. "Kanda's really excited."

"Don't be stupid," growled Kanda as they pulled out of the crowded airport. "You're the one who was all 'you're wonderful, Iris, you're wonderful'—I don't really give a damn about her or her stupid dance."

"She _is_ really wonderful to watch," she said insistently. "I promise!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Will we meet her beforehand?" asked Lavi.

"No, she has practice," returned Kanda curtly.

Lavi seemed to sense that something was irking Kanda. "…You okay, man?"

Kanda gave a noncommittal grunt. Lavi took this as a sign to stop talking to him, so he directed the conversation primarily to Lenalee. Both of them knew when to leave Kanda alone to sulk in his silence.

He had been sulking quite often, actually. He had managed to divert Iris's attention and hopefully convince her that he was not capable of feeling what she suspected. In fact, he had managed to convince himself that it was not possible, because all logic dictated that Iris was a very poor choice if he was looking for a target of affection. Still, it did not change the fact that his resentment toward her had slowly but surely suffered an attrition to tolerance, and perhaps something gentler than that. He couldn't afford the sentiment—not when Iris was nothing like Lavi or Lenalee. He was relieved to see that she was starting to feel something other than condescension for him, though. It made their entire dynamic much less one-sided.

* * *

Cross's hand is on her knee. She lets him do what he wants as she eats, ignoring the sensation of his warmth permeating through her dress. Cross is always handsy when they're eating, especially when they're in public. It has been several months since they'd started dining out—she is used to it now. She arches an eyebrow at him but doesn't do much else. They are in a ridiculously expensive restaurant in the Upper East Side, and it is so exclusive that even her richest classmates would have difficulty getting reservations. Cross is a well-known food critic and connoisseur; hardly anyone bothers him when he goes out to eat.

Even in the dim lighting, Cross looks incredible. She can never get tired of the way he dresses—so _classy_. The barest traces of unruliness are contained in the first few unbuttoned inches of his silken dress shirt and his loosened tie, but otherwise, he is the epitome of high-class perfection.

"I always did like you in red," says Cross as he watches her cut her filet mignon.

"I know," she answers.

"Mm. You don't wear it very often though."

"Don't say things you know the answer to," she says without the barest trace of a smile. She is always like this around him—smiling is dangerous. He likes girls who play hard to get. And she is hard to get.

"I wasn't even asking a question."

"You were asking why I don't wear red often, and you already know the answer to it—you just want to hear me say it because it makes you feel good about yourself."

"I always feel good about myself, Iris," he says lazily as he leans back in his seat. His hand disappears from her leg, but is replaced by the touch of his leg nudging hers beneath the table.

She sighs. "Dr. Marian, please focus on consuming your meal."

He frowns at the address. "Fine. I'll ask you a question I don't know the answer to then." He shifts in his seat and pulls at his tie, grimacing. She notices his discomfort.

"It's only been half an hour," she says. "You need to smoke already?"

"I'm fine," he replies with a casual brush of his hand.

"You should be. Classes last twice as long," she mutters.

He chuckles and nods. She doesn't approve of his smoking habit—not that anyone's disapproval has ever affected Cross Marian.

"What question?" she says.

"Out of everything you do brilliantly, why do you enjoy dancing the most?"

"How kind. I don't do much brilliantly, unfortunately."

"Don't say things you know the answer to," he repeats back to her.

"Mine was nothing remotely close to a question, Dr. Marian."

"You wanted me to pamper you and enumerate all the things you are brilliant at," he says silkily. "Tricky, but not good enough."

"If you're so good," she says drily, slightly bummed that he'd caught her, "why don't you answer your own question? I'm sure you know the answer already."

"May I?" he says politely.

"Certainly," she obliges.

He pauses, the liveliness in his expression disappearing as he leans in and studies her. She remains nonchalant, chewing the savory meat slowly. She is well aware of how seductive she looks, but for once, Cross is not thinking of anything sexual. His amber eyes are instead seeing a part of her hidden much deeper than her skin. This is Cross the Serious, Cross the Intellectual. This is the Cross she finds irresistible.

She licks her lips. It is hard not to get too excited.

"You dance because it is the only _true_ side to you," he says finally.

"That's rather vague," she says. "That explanation wouldn't even warrant a passing grade."

"I'm not finished," he says, impatience tingeing his voice. She smiles, but barely. Cross has an issue with people interrupting him when he is in the middle of showing off his genius.

"You are a complex woman," he continues. "Your personas vacillate depending on who you're interacting with—they're like alter-egos that adapt as different types of protective armor depending on the situation. Your ability as a social chameleon makes you perfect, but comes at a great price—you don't know your true personality yourself."

"…Perhaps," she says, aware that she is uncomfortable with how correct Cross is. She is not used to others psychoanalyzing her. "But that doesn't bother you? I'm not even real around you?"

Cross smirks confidently. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that. You are as real as you can get around me. I can bring that part out of you because I am that good."

Iris smiles and says nothing.

"But that's why only people who know you beyond the perfection façade can tell that dancing makes you incredibly vulnerable. You're something close to an exhibitionist."

She makes a face. "No."

"Not sexually," he corrects himself. "But you derive a pleasure and superiority from performing—dancing requires an incredible amount of work, precision, concentration, and determination. The product is your exhibition of the most beautiful and perfect angles of the human body, but very few know exactly how contorted your body is, how unnatural some aspects of the dance are, and ultimately, the full degree of how much work you put in to maintain this façade of apparent beauty. The bland, scopophilic morons in your audience see only the surface of that beauty. They don't know just how much deeper…how dedicated you have to be to subject yourself to that kind of perfection. Normal dancers love to dance because they know this innately. You, on the other hand, are fully conscious of this because this is how you live your entire _life_. The normal idiots surrounding you in daily life are just like the voyeuristic audience of the performance hall. Only a few," and his lips curl at the mention of the few because he knows it includes him, "can see how much you struggle with this pretense."

A silence follows his words. Iris continues cutting, chewing, and swallowing the dwindling steak on her platter. Cross is comfortable with the silence and pours himself a liberal glass of wine.

"I think that warrants an A-plus, Dr. Marian," says Iris at last. Her voice is quiet and sedated.

Cross nods. "It's nothing to feel uncomfortable about, Iris."

"I know," she says simply.

"It's me," he says reassuringly.

"I know. That's why I'm uncomfortable."

* * *

This memory came back to Iris every time before she danced. It was why she'd stopped.

Now, as she sat in the warm-up room backstage, she felt butterflies in her stomach. Annabelle knew Iris's pre-performance routine and had shooed everyone away from her, allowing her to sit in the corner by herself. She rested her head on her hands, almost as if she were praying. Instead, though, she was remembering.

She knew what to expect from the performance. It would go well, she would feel utterly exhilarated onstage, but the moment the showcase was done, an aching emptiness would enter her. It was as if her entire being had culminated into the dance, and once it was over, her purpose had expired. This emptiness had no remedy. The only potential chance to assuage this ache would be for someone to make her feel like she was wanted.

But Tyki wasn't here, and so there was no chance that would happen. And she'd thought enough about Cross already.

* * *

The showcase was, in short, amazing.

At least, that's what Lenalee would most likely say after it ended. Kanda had admittedly fallen asleep in some parts of it, keeping awake only for when Iris was onstage. Though it was artistically beautiful in some minutes, Kanda had quickly grown listless and bored. His eyes and mind wandered: the concert hall was full, mostly with students but he spotted the occasional older adult here and there; it was raining outside, but some moron had decided to keep on an atrociously pink parka; he'd never realized how many people had brown-or-darker hair, because blonde was really hard to find; Lavi's hair and eye-patch were ridiculously eye-catching, but he was probably the only one who could actually pull it off; Kanda hated crowded places; why the hell was there someone in the crowd with _white_ hair—oh, wait, that was probably an old person—but that was _too_ much hair for an old person; Kanda was confused…and strangely annoyed.

They were on the final number of the program now—the one with Iris and Mark's solo performance. _Finally_. The entire thing had been an utter waste of time. He wanted to go home and sleep.

The lighting on the stage changed to a dark, golden-red; this was the signal for the solo, and Kanda decided to grace Iris with his full attention. Not that she would care—she hadn't even wanted him to come. What was the reason? Oh, right, it made her _uncomfortable_. Stupid girl.

Iris positively glided into the pool of light that focused on the center of the stage. Mark, bare-chested and stocky, joined her simultaneously, and they entered the routine that Kanda had seen the night of her dance practice. Except Iris was not dressed in sweats and a tank-top, but instead was in a two-piece costume of billowy pants and a cropped top. It was slightly revealing, but Kanda was not thinking about Iris's exposed midriff. Instead, he realized that it was the first time he had ever seen Iris in red. This was a strange thought to occur to him at that precise moment, but he could not help it. It was most likely because Iris looked just that different in red. Compared to how she looked in red, Iris normally was an insipid, shallow shadow of herself, as if she were a 2-D cardboard cut-out with the capability of movement. He didn't know if it was the costume or if it was the fact that she was performing. She just looked different.

Beside him, Lavi was frowning.

Kanda was about to ask why he was, but he stopped when he saw Iris running towards Mark. He recognized this part—this was what Iris had rehearsed with him; Mark would catch her by the waist, propel her over his shoulder, and she would land as nimbly as a cat.

Except Iris ran, and Mark caught her over his shoulder.

But then he dropped her.

It happened in slow motion—Iris fell over his shoulder, head first—beside Kanda, Lenalee made an "Oh!" of despair—Iris didn't seem to understand what was happening, but her body was already instinctively moving to prevent damage from the fall. The height was not incredibly great, but the resounding thud from her body hitting the floor was as loud as if a two-ton block of steel had crashed through the stage. There was an unconscious and unanimous groan from the audience, cut short because it was rude, but the remnant sounds lingered.

Mark looked terrified, rooted to the spot as he just stared at Iris. The music still continued, but precious seconds elapsed as Iris, clearly disoriented, struggled to her feet.

"Don't just stand there, idiot," muttered Kanda under his breath. "What's he doing?"

"The show must go on," agreed Lavi. "Come on…"

It was Iris who recovered first, evidently having to think several steps ahead in the routine to pick back up where the score dictated. She moved assertively in front of Mark and continued where they were supposed to; this jolted stupid Mark out of his stupor and he moved accordingly. There was a light spattering of applause from the crowd at their recovery, one that Kanda found almost patronizing. Lavi shrugged in his seat.

"That was probably the most interesting part of the night," he said in an undertone to Kanda.

"Yeah," said Kanda. "I'm ready to go."

"What, you didn't find your roommate beautiful?" Lavi grinned.

"Shut up. And I thought you found this kind of stuff fun."

"Nope, dance isn't my thing. It's nice and all, but after an hour I get pretty bored."

"If you two are bored, then go outside and play," said Lenalee primly. "If not, be quiet and watch. We have two more minutes left."

"Thank God," said Kanda.

"Shut up, Kanda."

He didn't have to, because the performance was soon over. Kanda had the slightest feeling that Iris was just as relieved as he was.

* * *

Mark apologized profusely. Iris forgave him. The club members patted them on the back, said, "Good job! Let's go party!" and that was that. As if The Fall had never happened.

The party was at Annabelle's loft, a wide, open space on the fifteenth floor of a classy apartment complex that certainly should not have been an after-party location. Annabelle had made entrance by-invitation only, but even with this added restriction, the loft was crammed full to carrying capacity. Iris found solace in the crowded state; she smiled, nodded at people, numbing her mind with inane chatter as internally, she seethed.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly why she was so furious, but the fact that Mark had dropped her—_dropped her_! Onstage! In front of almost five hundred people! She had been doing them a favor and he couldn't even hold one hundred pounds. It had been a mistake—of _course_ it had been a mistake—but when Iris poured her every waking second to perfection of the littlest things, she did not expect to find a crucial, _obvious_ lapse of concentration when it came to performance. It reeked of nerves, of unprofessionalism, of not practicing hard enough. And then he'd had the gall to just _stare_ at her after she'd just fallen to the ground. For a full five seconds. If that didn't have Idiot written all over it, Iris didn't know what did.

She was in a foul mood but, surrounded by people, she did not let it show. She knew that her anger was unreasonable and that she could not hold everyone to the same standard she held herself. Yet performance was so important to her that their dance had been nearly sacrilegious—she felt that something had gone very wrong, and that it was foreshadowing A Fall not of dance but of her life. The empty, aching feeling that always accompanied her after the showcases had returned, but it was supplemented with anger. It was not a pleasant combination—Iris felt nearly ill.

Across the room, Kanda was standing with Lavi and Lenalee. Iris had met the famous Lavi only briefly; they'd shaken hands, but this little bit of contact almost made her shudder. She could tell that he disliked her immensely, but he could not pinpoint why. She purposely avoided them—she needed to be in top condition to deal appropriately with Lavi, and she was nowhere near it.

It was not surprising that they were surrounded by other people, asking them questions, socializing with them. They were three very attractive people—Kanda was almost famous on campus for being the atypically beautiful Asian guy, Lavi was affable and clearly intelligent even with the eye-patch, and Lenalee was one of those adorable girls that no one could resist. Lavi and Lenalee were thriving in conversation, both of them sufficiently intoxicated and animated. Kanda, on the other hand, looked morbidly bored, as if he wanted nothing better than to become invisible. Close by him, several girls (including Lou Fa) studied him with great and far-from-innocent interest. This, for a reason that she had adamantly been avoiding, only made Iris feel worse.

She wished Tyki was around. Though at the rate she was going, he was not going to be of much help. Everything that he'd wanted to say, he'd already said.

_If, in the not-so-off-chance that you find yourself liking Kanda, then I am perfectly supportive of that._

_Why,_ she scowled.

_Because he is much better than me, a shit ton better than Cross, and he'll be the first one who won't make you feel like you're being read like a book. _

_You don't make me feel that way_.

_Iris, dear, I was never an option. I am only _the_ option if, in twenty years, you and I are both unmarried and decide that it might be nice to settle down. The chances of that happening are rather slim though._

_Kanda is…_ she hesitated. _Kanda is too good. Too easy. I'll feel like I'm taking advantage of him._

_It's not like you haven't already, you know. _

_Touché,_ she thought drily.

"Iris. _Iris_, are you listening to me? Want a drink?"

Iris blinked and found Annabelle hanging a red Solo cup in front of her face. She took it gratefully and downed it.

"Thanks," she muttered.

Annoying Annabelle frowned. "You okay? You've been kinda out of it since the show ended. I told you—it was fine! It wasn't even your fault."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Just…just tired, that's all. And it's fucking hot in here. I'm going to take a breather outside."

"Oh. Okay. But hey, I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"You know your roommate? Yuu Kanda?"

"Yeah."

"Is he a virgin?"

Iris blinked, then burst out laughing. "What the hell—Anna, why are you asking me?"

"Because he talks to virtually no one else!" Annabelle exclaimed, throwing up her hands exasperatedly. "I'm asking because he's so gorgeous it should be illegal, and I thought _for sure_ that he was gay but surprise, surprise, my gay-dar doesn't go off around him, which means that he's eligible and dear God I would love to take him to my bed."

"You should ask him that," said Iris. "Seriously, just see what he feels about it."

"You think?" said Annabelle.

"Oh, definitely," she answered.

"He has such beautiful friends too," said Annabelle mournfully. "That ginger is…_mm_! Right up my alley. Too bad his girlfriend's here…"

"You don't swing both ways?" said Iris slyly.

"Well, three's a party," smirked Annabelle. "I think she could be invited."

Iris scoffed and headed out to the deck, pushing past couples making out and others just idly conversing. It was odd that she felt the most alone when she was surrounded by people; she had already gone through all the niceties of saying hi to everyone she knew, and most people knew she was taken, which prevented the awkward and unwanted confrontation with any guy who just wanted to get laid.

The December air was biting and harsh. Surprisingly, there hadn't been snow all semester, but the frigid temperatures and icy winds were enough to keep everyone indoors. Iris welcomed the solitude, the painful frost, and the view that Annabelle's apartment offered her.

New York was a city that only the young could truly live in and relish. Iris watched as the lights all around the city flickered and burned, the sounds of a roaring wind carrying the dull bass beats of clubs downtown and the strident honks of any taxi drivers who were eager to get home. It was already late, yet the streets were still populated with people—teenagers out past curfew, drinking and smoking; college students clubbing and wasted. Hardly any adults. Hardly anyone with any real responsibilities.

As Iris looked below, disgust crept in her mind. This was the life. This was the world that she was struggling to survive in, to learn the ropes of. The world was so silly, so pointless; why did they not live in a world that operated more on skill than on chance, more on work than on birthright—why was the world so appearance-obsessed and self-oriented that freedom, individuality, and true happiness were just motivational words thrown around to drive society that meant utterly nothing? They were just tiny ants in a city that could not even account as the barest speck in the universe. The world was oriented around the self because the self could not comprehend the universe. And even if the self could comprehend the universe, it would not want to, because upon learning what the universe was, the self was insignificant. And no one wanted to be insignificant.

Iris sighed and shivered. Her anger at Mark had subsided. He was just an ant. An ant that made a mistake did not function in the colony because there were so many other ants to replace it. No point remaining angry at a defect.

The hollow ache in her chest, given more room now that her anger had disappeared, grew. Iris closed her eyes, trying to block out the uncomfortable sensation. Ups and downs, ups and downs. Drive, purpose, and then nothing. This was what the ache meant. It was a reminder. You can work all your life for something, you have this purpose, but when it's over, you are just an empty hole in the world.

Worse.

You are replaceable.

That was why people sought out significant others. So they felt like they weren't replaceable to at least one other person. So that they would be remembered and missed. But the ache reminded her that she wasn't wanted. Wouldn't be remembered and missed.

She tried to tell herself that she did not care, but that was hard. She could not help but be jealous when she saw a blissful, ignorant but clearly happy couple together. Why did stupid people allowed something she couldn't have?

The door slid open behind her.

"Did you tell someone that I would want to sleep with her?" said Kanda's scathing voice.

Iris turned around. Kanda, scowling deeply, let the door slide shut behind him. She smiled.

"It was a joke. Don't take it so seriously."

"I wouldn't," snapped Kanda, "except all your friends are bat-shit crazy, because she really tried to kiss me. So don't go telling people I'd be up for it when I'm clearly _not_."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said mildly. "I don't want a bunch of girls kissing you anyway."

Kanda arched an eyebrow. "Weren't you all for me hooking up with someone?"

She turned back around and leaned against the balcony's railing. "I changed my mind."

He appeared beside her, mimicking her positioning and gazing at the scene below. He saw and thought none of the things Iris did. Instead, his interest in the strangers bustling on the streets below him quickly expired, and he turned his attention upward to the clear sky. Iris watched him through the corner of her eyes.

She sometimes thought Kanda was slightly supernatural, as silly as it sounded. She just couldn't comprehend how exactly someone could be so physically flawless. Tyki was gorgeous in his own right, but he was painfully…corporeal. Something about Kanda, especially as he was showered in moonlight, radiated of an ethereal beauty that somehow transcended normal standards. He was some kind of pure, celestial being that operated above the standards of the world, not within them. Perhaps this was why Iris had not been sexually attracted to him initially. She was too mundane.

"Do you like stargazing?" she asked.

Her statement brought Kanda's attention to her. She'd dragged him down to an earthly pedestal.

He scoffed. "I don't really care. I just do it because it makes sure that I don't have to talk to other people."

Iris nodded. "Should I leave you to your stargazing then?"

"I don't care," he said again.

"So you don't mind if I keep talking?"

He shrugged. "I'll tell you when you should shut up."

"I'll take that," she said with a short-lived chuckle. "Did you laugh when I fell today?"

He frowned, thinking. "No. I thought your partner was an idiot. You're not heavy."

"And you did it just fine," murmured Iris. "The first thing I thought when I fell was—_even Kanda could do this_!"

"Thanks," he said sarcastically.

"…It must have looked stupid," she said quietly.

"It wasn't your fault," he said sharply, as if he'd picked up on the insecurity in her voice. "You can't control everything."

"I wish I could," she said absentmindedly. "Especially other people."

Kanda was silent for a second. "…Wouldn't that bore you to death? I thought you liked to manipulate people."

Iris scoffed. "Manipulating people is just like controlling them. I'd have the time of my life."

They fell into silence. She'd made Kanda uncomfortable.

Iris could not understand their strange and inexplicable dynamic. They could bond because they had things to hide, but other than that, they were polar opposites. Kanda was a poor, adopted orphan who had been sexually abused multiple times as a child; Iris was an only child from an upper middle-class, loving family who had never done her any wrong. Yet the fact that she'd turned out the way she was, while Kanda still intrinsically believed that good people existed everywhere he went…it baffled her. Kanda was so clueless. He didn't know how the world operated. That was it—he was some transcendental character who had been dropped into the world, exposed to its sick cruelties, and still didn't know how to work it. This ignorance was not uncommon. It existed in almost everyone she interacted with—the ones who believed they'd been born with the privilege of money, the ones who could only see in a unidirectional path and couldn't recognize just how warped their society and its inhabitants were. This ignorance normally repulsed her. Yet maybe it was the fact that Kanda had been exposed to a life the furthest thing from privilege and still prevailed that made her feel, at the very least, pity for him. Or perhaps it wasn't pity, but rather, she felt that he was superior on some grand, moral level that she, an earthling, could not fathom.

"Why're you out here?" asked Kanda, his smooth voice breaking the silence unobtrusively.

"…I like to be in high places."

"To stargaze?" he said sarcastically.

"No," she answered truthfully. "I don't like looking up."

He waited for an explanation. The silence eventually bullied her into reluctantly giving one.

"I've always hated astrology, actually," she said. "It doesn't have any delineation. Here's how big our world is. Here's how big the sun is. Here's an estimate of the Milky Way. Anything beyond that, we don't know anything about, but we know it exists. We know it's huge. And we are just little people on a speck in the universe. It reminds me that everything I do is useless. That all we do is live for a little bit, and then we all die. It makes me feel stupid for working so hard." She tossed the empty cup in her hand over the edge, watching the plastic flash of red travel before clattering away on the pavement, the sound so distant it was barely audible. "That's why I like looking down. Not just because I like to be higher than other people, but because I can see something tangible beneath me. I know there's a ground below…and it exists. That I could hit it if I fell." She tested the strength of the railing and lifted herself slightly off the ground with her hands.

It must have looked like she wanted to jump off, because suddenly, Kanda grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away from the edge.

"What the hell are you doing?" he bellowed, clearly alarmed.

"Nothing," said Iris, bewildered. "I wasn't…"

"You weren't trying to jump off?!"

"No, I wasn't—"

"Then why would you say depressing things and talk about falling and then look like you're going to?!"

He was still shouting, incensed but certainly worried. Iris did not miss the fact that he was still holding her, and she did not bother to remind him.

"Were you worried I would jump off and die?" she said, casually laying her head on his shoulder.

"We can at least agree that I don't want to see you kill yourself right in front of me," he said irritably.

"Mm…that's good to hear."

She leaned her entire weight against his chest. Kanda stiffened, realizing that he was holding her from behind. He tried to let go, but Iris caught the arm circling her waist and held it in place.

"Let's stay like this," she said quietly.

"No," he said, but he was struggling against her halfheartedly. "If someone sees—"

"No one will see. We're behind the wall."

"What do you want?" he said angrily. "I never know what you're looking for—if you just want a hookup, there's a room full of guys who'd be all for jumping on you—"

"I don't do random hookups," she said. "They don't interest me."

"Then what _does_ interest you?" he said exasperatedly. "Last time I checked, you had someone you liked—you also have Tyki. Anything you may or may not have for me is obviously unwanted because you didn't even want me to come to your stupid showcase, and—"

"But you _did_ come," she said. She was freezing, but she wouldn't have given up the position she was in for anything. Her palm rested on Kanda's hand, ensuring that he wouldn't let her go. "To the showcase, and out to the balcony. You're worried about me. I like you, Kanda. You interest me. You make me question myself. I like that you care about me. I like that we're like this right now."

She turned her head so that she was looking up at him. His expression was crossed between discomfort and distaste—sadly, no pleasure there. She smiled.

"Do you know why a lot of girls hook up?"

"No, do tell me, Professor," said Kanda sardonically.

"Guys hook up because they just want to score," she said, ignoring his tone. "Girls hook up because we're silly but sometimes, we just want to feel wanted. We want someone to remind us that it's all going to be okay, that someone cares, even if it is just a stranger." She scoffed. "I can't do strangers. I'm better than that. Still though…sometimes it's hard. You feel like a piece of shit for no reason. That's why I like that you care about me. Because if you didn't, I would feel very, very bad right now."

He didn't say anything. She knew his unspoken question. _Why are you feeling unwanted_? But the ache was the ache, and she had no way to explain it and only one way to cure it.

She was not disappointed. Kanda shifted her weight in his hands. He was holding her properly now—slightly hunched over as his chin rested on her shoulder. She could feel his breath across her neck. It felt so…so odd. If this were Tyki, she would've been so sexually charged that they would be in the bedroom already. But Kanda was different—not a bad kind of different, but certainly slower. And serene.

Cautiously, she brought a hand up and touched his cold cheek. He didn't react. Emboldened, she wrapped her arm behind her, around his neck. Her fingers burying in his hair. Her face turned toward his. Marble, regal, statuesque.

"When I'm drunk," she said softly, "I don't remember anything the next day."

His blue eyes, lighter and more piercing than she'd ever seen them, flickered. He said nothing.

She brought his face closer to hers.

"You mind?" she whispered.

She didn't wait. She leaned in. Lips over his.

She kissed the statue of a Greek god.

* * *

_free talk_:

hi! sorry for the wait. : ) hope you enjoyed the chapter! it was somewhat different stylistically, so i hope you didn't find it too confusing.

lj update later.

be nice and review! it'll make me happy. :)

xoxo,  
m.n


	6. Two Veils to Hide My Face

**Chapter 6: Two Veils to Hide My Face**

She wasn't sure how long the first kiss lasted. Five seconds, ten seconds.

He broke it off.

But then he started the second one. And the third.

They remained in that awkward position, his arms around her waist, her hand buried in his hair as she turned to her side, craning her neck to find his mouth and his warmth. She didn't know if Kanda was drunk or not. She found herself hoping that he wasn't—that he had made this conscious decision. No matter how painful her neck was, it was worth it.

She stopped only to turn around, to wrap her arms around Kanda's neck and pull him lower so that they could kiss in the way she had never kissed someone before—a delicate stream of actions that hinted at something deeper and darker, a path that she knew Kanda was wary of embarking on but couldn't resist because his hands were sliding up her back and lifting her so close to him that she was nearly off the ground.

The door to the patio slid open. Kanda released her immediately and turned away, assuming the position of leaning nonchalantly against the railing. She did the same, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, surprised at Kanda's instant reaction.

"Why're you two out in the middle of the cold?" said a voice behind her.

She didn't turn around. She knew it was Lavi, and she needed several seconds to regain her sense of control before confronting him.

Surprisingly, Kanda recovered first.

"Are you drunk?" he said sardonically.

"No," said Lavi defensively. "I'm sober."

"Fat chance."

"If you're going to talk about who's drunk, Lenalee is _gone_."

Iris, also sober, frowned when she heard this.

Kanda's outburst vocalized her thoughts.

"And you left her _alone_?!" he snapped. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"I—"

"Do you want Komui to kill you?" snarled Kanda. Iris could hear him leaving the deck and re-entering the apartment, where the kiss never happened. Komui, she guessed, was Lenalee's overprotective brother. And Lavi, she guessed, was not protective at all.

She was still not in the ideal state of mind to deal with Lavi, though she was in better shape than before. The aftermath of the showcase was still fresh, but kissing Kanda had given her a not-so-surprising power trip that she knew she could use to confront Kanda's best friend. There was, at this point, no other option.

She turned around to face him. Lavi's gaze was cold and his lips pursed. No pretenses. He knew what they had been doing.

"You're not a very good boyfriend," she commented.

"Kanda will take care of Lenalee," he said evenly.

"Oh," smiled Iris. "And I assume you'll take care of me?"

"Kanda's not here for you to toy around with," said Lavi coolly.

Iris chuckled and approached him.

"I always thought you were like me—we'd be sugarcoating this conversation if you were. But I'm beginning to think you're not quite on my level."

"And I'm beginning to think you're more arrogant than you should be."

"Face it," she said, stretching her arms out over her head. "Kanda likes me. You hate that he does, but in your efforts to stay a truly good friend, give him the choice of figuring that out for himself. And that's why I'm saying you're not on my level."

"Meaning you'd approach it differently," said Lavi.

"Of course," she smirked. "Because I like him too, and I don't like you. But unlike you, I don't really care if he thinks I'm a good friend or not." She smiled sweetly. "So don't get too comfortable, hon. Keep clinging to your morals, because I'll be taking that pretty throne of yours soon."

* * *

She left the party alone, exhausted in more ways than one. Two weeks of non-stop practicing had drained her, but the challenge she'd extended Lavi was more worrisome. She was not in Kanda's head completely yet, and Lavi still was his main confidante. Yet if she were to call that evening a competition, she would have won—Lavi had slipped up more than he'd thought. She had enough interaction with Lavi to make very educated guesses as to how he would react, and she knew that Lavi would share everything with Kanda. Kanda, after much cajoling, would also tell Lavi and Lenalee what exactly he and Iris had been doing on the porch. What so plainly appeared to be gossip was actually several chess moves in one go, except she and Lavi were the only players.

She did not like Lavi. He was smart and also seemed to be more invested in Kanda than normal. The less contact they had, the better—which was why she was surprised to find Lavi sleeping on her couch the next morning.

She stared at him. Surely Lavi had to be smarter than that…this not only confirmed what she'd been thinking of the night before, but was also making things a little too obvious. She frowned. The challenge that Lavi was supposed to pose was sadly lacking.

The redhead stirred.

"Hey," said Iris sharply. "I know you're awake."

Lavi's eyes snapped open, and he sat up immediately.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be sleeping over at Lenalee's?"

"She's sleeping in Kanda's room," he explained. So maybe it wasn't that obvious, then. "She was too drunk to get back home."

"Twenty-four hour notice, my ass," Iris muttered under her breath as she made her way to the kitchen. "Breakfast for four then…"

"Three," groaned Kanda as he emerged from his room. "I don't think Lenalee's going to be able to stomach anything, and…"

His voice trailed off when he made eye contact with Iris. She could sense the initial rise in tension—the warning to not mention last night—before he scowled.

"Could you put more clothes on?" he snapped.

"I'm wearing shorts," she said, lifting up Tyki's overlarge shirt slightly as proof. "Don't be so coy, virgin."

"Shut it, woman."

"I walk around like this all the time, Kanda," she said. "Why so demanding all of a sudden?"

He glared at her. "Tyki's not even here, so you don't have to parade around in his shirt."

"What, jealous?"

Kanda was right about to retort when Lavi intervened.

"How's Lenalee feeling?" he asked.

"Shitty, with no thanks to you, Sherlock," said Kanda, genuinely angry. "Why didn't you make sure she wasn't doing shots? You know she has the worst alcohol tolerance."

"She said she was fine," said Lavi defensively.

"Of course she did! She was _drunk_! She can only take three shots—_max_—in an hour, and yesterday she had six!"

"My bad, my bad," said Lavi, raising his hands in surrender. "I was too busy wondering where _you_'d been whisked away to—"

"I am nowhere as vulnerable as Lenalee," snarled Kanda.

"Really," said Lavi loftily.

Kanda hissed audibly. It had been a low blow on Lavi's part, but Kanda let it slide. "You should've been watching her."

"She'll be fine, Kanda," said Iris, patting him on the shoulder. Surprisingly, he didn't stiffen to her touch. "I'll make her tea and give her a change of clothes. Don't panic."

"I'm not—"

"Seriously, dear," she said dryly. "You're acting like her brother or boyfriend. Lavi's the one who should be panicking. He also should've been the one taking care of her last night, instead of you…" Iris smiled at Lavi, who was barely masking his glare. "But to hell with traditional relationship norms, mm? Kanda, what do you want in your pancakes?"

"I don't want anything," he muttered. "I'm going to check on Lenalee."

"The last thing anyone with a hangover wants is to be annoyed, Kanda. Don't bother her. Just let her rest."

"I'm going to take a shower," said Lavi. "Kanda, you have clothes you can lend me?"

"In the closet," said Kanda curtly. "Don't wake Lenalee up."

"I won't."

Kanda waited until Lavi had exited the room before following Iris into the kitchen. She was rummaging around the cabinet for the pancake batter, only to find it on the most top shelf.

"Damn it, Tyki," said Iris under her breath. "I already know you're two feet taller than me…no need to rub it in."

Kanda reached over her and set the box in front of Iris.

"Thanks," she said.

"…Last night," he said in an undertone.

"Yes, hook-up buddy?"

"Shit. So you do remember."

"Kanda, your kisses are so incredible—"

"Not so loud," he hissed, unmistakably slightly red. She grinned.

"I didn't drink much last night," she said, pouring oil into the pan and spreading it over the surface. "I just said that to egg you on a bit."

"So now what?" he said shortly. "Are you going to tell Tyki?"

"Probably."

"And?"

"The 'and' depends entirely on you, dear. If you want to pretend like it never happened, then we can do precisely that. There were no witnesses."  
"So essentially," said Kanda darkly, "you don't care."

She gave him an appraising look. "You really don't know me at all, Kanda. I would never tell you whether or not I care. What would happen if I cared and you didn't? I'd lose face."

"And what if it's vice versa?" he said irritably.

"You've lost face so many times in front of me, it hardly matters any more," she chuckled.

"Woman—"

"Just kidding, dear." Kanda glared at her. "Look, just give it some thought, okay?"

"Give _what_ some thought," he said angrily. "That's the thing, I have no idea what we're supposed to do with this—where are we going with it?"

"You mean you want an exclusive relationship?"

"No, woman, I don't _like_ you—"

"God…" she muttered, pouring batter in and waiting for it to start sizzling. "Look, this is what I mean, okay? Why don't _you_ decide first what you want, as in whether or not you like me or not. Once you decide what you want, we can talk about it. I'm not pushing anything, Kanda."

A door down the hallway opened, so Kanda did not reply. A severely sick-looking Lenalee stumbled into the kitchen.

"Stay in bed," ordered Kanda.

"I…feel gross…" Lenalee's face was a light shade of green.

"Keep an eye on the pancakes, Kanda," said Iris, handing over the spatula. "Here, Lenalee, you can use my shower and I'll get you a set of clothes."

"Thank you so much…"

"No problem, dear."

"I'm so sorry about this," said Lenalee as Iris steered her out of the kitchen.

"Don't be," said Iris, sneaking a glance back at Kanda. "Some of us just have a higher tolerance for things than others."

* * *

Tyki came back later that afternoon with a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine.

"Hi, love," he said, leaning down and kissing her. "I'm sorry I missed your big night."

"No worries," she said as she absentmindedly flipped through the channels on the T.V. "It was a complete failure anyway."

"Don't say that…you were only dropped in front of everyone in the middle of your solo." Iris glared at him, and Tyki returned with a cheeky grin. "Too soon?"

"Much too soon."

He spotted Lavi's camera bag in the corner of the room. "You still have guests?"

"I didn't invite them," scowled Iris. "I wish they weren't still hanging around, but Kanda seems worried that Lenalee will puke her brains out any minute."

"No hangover is that bad," said Tyki mildly, taking a seat next to her on the couch.

"No, I'm pretty sure I've felt that bad before," said Iris with a shudder. "Lucky you…you can out-drink anybody."

"Just imagine how shot my liver is."

"That's so morbid. Don't remind me of your imminent mortality, okay? How was the family?"

"Good," shrugged Tyki. "Road was fine—as expected. Cyril was insufferable—as always. He and Lulu thought it was appropriate to sit me down and tell me to re-evaluate my life goals…" Tyki pulled a cigarette out of his breast pocket and lit it. "So annoying."

"Did you listen to them this time?" said Iris jokingly.

"Somewhat," said Tyki grudgingly.

"Eh? Really?" She looked at him concernedly. "I didn't think you were serious."

"Well," he said, cracking his neck, "the whole deal about me being twenty-six and having no significant contribution to society wasn't that convincing until they went on to say that by the time I'm thirty, you'd probably have saved the world twice—"

Iris snorted audibly. Tyki gave her an amused look but continued.

"—and they said that if I didn't take my life seriously now, career-wise or romantically, I'd be left stranded pretty soon. I tried to say that I'd always have you, but they didn't believe me. When I thought about it more though, I realized that they may be more right than I thought before. If you and Kanda work out…I dunno."

Iris sighed and leaned her head on Tyki's shoulder.

"Yeah…I wanted to talk to you about Kanda."

"…Something happen?"

"Sort of. He's still confused and I told him that I wasn't going to push it if he didn't want to, but…I think we need to stop sleeping together."

Tyki smoked his cigarette in silence. She could tell that he was somewhat aggravated at the news.

Iris sighed. "Maybe we should've never slept together in the first place. It makes this relationship harder to change back to how it was before."

"…I regret the first time we had sex but nothing after that," said Tyki coolly. "Our relationship was bound to turn in this direction from the start—we just managed to fight it off for long enough."

"Are you angry at me?"

"I'm not happy," admitted Tyki. "As hypocritical as it may seem in comparison to what I've been telling you about Kanda."

"Does that mean you didn't believe what you've been telling me?"

"No, I did mean what I said. I guess I just didn't expect it to happen so soon." He looked down at her. "Did you guys sleep together?"

"No," scoffed Iris. "You know I don't move that fast."

"No, but it was Kanda."

"Do you think _he'd_ move that fast?"

"Touché," said Tyki. A pause. "Well? Is this our breakup?"

"If you mean in terms of what we tell unaffiliated people, then I suppose so. If you mean between you and me…you know I don't want to let go of you."

Tyki smirked. "Sexually or otherwise?"

Iris kissed him on the cheek. "Of course in all ways. You are a _fantastic_ lover."

"I know."

"That being said…even so, I think the sex should stop."

"Fine…damn Kanda. Virgin doesn't even know what he's making you give up." Tyki sighed. "I just wish this could've continued until I stopped hosting completely and figured out what I needed to do. I would have liked your support."

"You know I'm always here as an emotional support, Tyki. I'm still going to text you every detail of my life unless you want me to stop."

"Of course I don't want you to stop. I like knowing every detail of your life and vice versa."

"Then are we okay?"

"…Yeah," said Tyki, kissing her forehead. "You're going to have to bear with me a bit…I might not be as responsive sometimes, and other times I'm going to want to make out. Just let me know what's okay and what's not."

"Of course. Take your time, Tyki."

Tyki exhaled and stood up. His teeth gritting his cigarette, he put on his jacket and turned to her.

"Well…I wish you the best of luck in all your romantic endeavors with apparently the number one kisser on the face of the planet," he said wryly.

"Don't be sarcastic, dear. It doesn't suit you. No need to push yourself."

"Fine. I'll see you later, babe."

Tyki opened the door, only to reveal Lavi Bookman at the entrance, just about to knock.

"Oh, hello," said Tyki.

"Hi," said Lavi amiably. "I'm guessing you're Tyki?"

"And you must be Kanda's friend."

"Lavi Bookman. Please to meet you," said Lavi, sticking out his hand.

Tyki shook it briefly, then turned around casually to meet Iris's eyes. "Where is Kanda?"

"He's downstairs with Lenalee," said Lavi. "We're going to head into the city, so I'm just here to grab my camera."

"I see." Tyki did not say anything more than that, instead watching as Lavi took his bag from the corner and turned to leave without a single word to Iris. Iris, of course, had to acknowledge this blatant cold shoulder.

"Don't be so rude, Lavi. You could at least say hi. Have fun," said Iris sweetly.

"Thanks," smiled Lavi, though it was hard not to miss the edge in his voice. "Nice meeting you, man."

Tyki waited until Lavi disappeared down the hall.

"Charming, isn't he?" said Iris, reaching over to the coffee table in front of her and selecting a bright red bottle of nail polish. "He's good, but not good enough. It's hard for him to contain his resentment around me. Wouldn't look at me in the eye if he could."

"He looks familiar."

Iris unwound the cap to her nail polish. "Have you seen him before somewhere? Maybe affiliated with someone from work?"

"Perhaps…" said Tyki. The tone of his voice made Iris look up from her work.

"Tyki? Something wrong?"

"I'll have to think about it," he answered. "Be careful, Iris. I don't think he's as easy as you make him out to be."

She smiled. "No, perhaps not. But I have a couple cards that he doesn't know I hold, and even if he did, he really wouldn't want me to play them."

* * *

Despite that somewhat ending things with Tyki had been Iris's choice, it did not change the fact that after he'd left, she sank into an incredibly foul mood. Familiar questions, ones that she'd often tried to suppress, began to circulate. Maybe she had made a mistake—maybe Tyki really was The One because the world never gave you a perfect match and Tyki was the best thing that would ever happen to her. And she had just given that up for a mere boy she'd known for less than six months and had no guarantee. It was very unlike her to operate with no guarantee.

She knew how Tyki felt—it would be the same if Tyki had suddenly announced that someone important enough to him had appeared, causing them to halt their relationship. No one wanted to be the one left behind, no matter how "happy" they were for each other. The move that Iris had made had potentially ruptured a relationship with Tyki that would never return to normal. What was worse was that Iris did not even know for sure if Kanda was worth giving Tyki up. These possibilities made her uneasy, and in addition to the presence of Lavi and Kanda's unbelievable oblivion to absolutely everything, she found her attitude difficult to control.

"Did Tyki stop by?" said Kanda when the three of them returned that night. Iris was washing the dishes after having eaten dinner alone. The flowers that Tyki had brought her were propped in a vase on the countertop.

"Yeah," said Iris. "For a while."

"Did he have work?"

"I think so."

"You only think?" said Kanda blandly. "I thought you knew everything about him."

"Kanda," said Iris wearily. "Don't push my buttons right now."

"What," he scoffed, "you upset about something?"

"Even if I were, it's not like you'd really want to hear it."

"Got that right, at least," muttered Kanda.

"Are your friends staying again tonight?" said Iris, internally hoping that Lenalee was well enough to go back to her own dorm and drag Lavi along with her.

"No, Lenalee wanted to head back but Lavi insisted that it was better not to since we got back kind of late."

"It's not even late—they had more than enough time to go back," said Iris irritably.

Kanda's eyes narrowed. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," she said. "Are you all just going to hang around here tonight?"

"Probably."

"I'm going for a walk then."

"Seriously, if something is actually wrong with you then—"

"What?" said Iris acidly. "You want to talk about my feelings? Yeah, right."

Kanda's arm twitched, as if he was restraining the desire to hit her. Iris noticed and arched an eyebrow. Kanda, knowing her implications, scowled.

"You're only like this when you're mad at me," he said. "Considering that I haven't been around all day, it's some fucking stupid conclusion you came to when I was gone. I have no idea what decisions you come to by yourself, woman. Spit it out or I'm leaving."

Iris took in several breaths before she replied.

"Looks like you finally have a better handle of me," she said dryly. "Sorry for taking it out on you."

"What happened?" he said bluntly.

"Tyki and I talked. We called it quits."

Kanda looked confused. "Called what quits? You're not friends anymore or just not sleeping together?"

"Sleeping together," said Iris. "We're still friends…I think. If he's okay with that. I don't think I could deal with it if he weren't though."

"…Why did you suddenly decide to stop it?"

"Because…" Iris looked at Kanda head on. "Because I know you're confused about last night. And the fact that I didn't give you a straight answer on where we would go with this probably didn't help you too much. I talked to Tyki today about it because I wanted to…I guess let you know that I am serious. That I would be okay with being exclusive."

Kanda just stared at her.

"Though…from your facial expression, I'm guessing that Lavi talked to you today and had just managed to convince you that you were going to forget about it, right?" said Iris lightly.

"We just talked about it a bit," said Kanda vaguely.

"Right," said Iris under breath, making a movement past Kanda. Her irritation with Lavi had reached a point where she was starting to lose focus—she had this planned out, she was going to stick to the plan and it didn't require her tormenting Lavi just yet—but at the rate Lavi was ticking her off, she was going to end up pulling out all the cards without knowing absolutely everything what he had in store. She had anticipated this, but had not anticipated just the degree and speed of Kanda's conviction. "Well, I'm going to go for a walk. You can think about that a little more. If I'm not back by the time you guys go to bed, don't worry about it. I need to cool off."

"Iris—"

"Not. Now," she seethed. Kanda backed off.

Lenalee was leaving Kanda's room right as Iris was heading out.

"Iris, do you want to—"

"I'm good," interrupted Iris, smiling as benignly as possible. "I'm just heading out for a bit. Text me if you want me to pick anything up from outside."

"I…"

Iris did not even bother staying until Lenalee finished her sentence. She slid into her boots, grabbed her coat and was out the door. She strode quickly down the hallway but instead of descending the staircase, she went up to the rooftop. Though it was possible that some stupid couple would be commencing their passionate expressions of love for one another on the roof, the temperature in New York had reached a biting twenty degrees that would make sex on a rooftop highly uncomfortable.

Iris pulled her coat closer to her body and welcomed the frosty chill that enclosed her as she stepped onto the deserted roof. She chose the side that was slightly elevated and sat down against the railing, looking across at the glowing lights of the taller apartment complex and buildings across the street. She and Tyki came to the rooftop often over the summers, when the breeze was warm and they could watch the stars for hours. Or, at least that was what Tyki would do. Iris would stare determinedly at the street across from them, or, if they were lying down, she would curl against his body and just close her eyes. It was on the rooftop last summer that she had tried her first and last cigarette, just because she thought Tyki (and admittedly Cross) looked so good doing it that she would give it a try. Of course, she had been reduced to a pile of hacking coughs and tears as she'd tossed the white stick as far away as she could, much to Tyki's amusement.

"You don't approve of my smoking anyway," he had chuckled. "Don't do it if you don't want to."

"I just…" she'd said while blinking the tears out of her eyes, "thought you looked really sexy."

"What are you in, high school? Smoking's bad for you. You've told me a million times. Looking sexy isn't worth killing your lungs."

"Hypocrite."

He'd shrugged. "I just do whatever makes me feel good, Iris. I have no grand ambitions in life and if smoking makes me feel good, I'll do it. You, on the other hand, have serious plans for the future and have no reason to compromise them by smoking."

Iris let out a breath, struggling with the urge to call Tyki. Truthfully, she did not know where to draw the boundaries now. Tyki had said that he needed time, but with someone so detached in sex, surely he didn't need an emotional break? They were still friends and she needed advice. Surely that was…

No. She would have been furious if Tyki had done the same thing to her and then called her for advice. Tyki had acted graciously enough. If all he required was space, then Iris could do nothing but give it to him. So she went over everything in her head, alone, trying to think as clearly as possible without Tyki's voice of reason beside her.

Iris had made the first move, and Lavi had played back. His retaliation had been an expected move, but Iris had been hoping to sneak in another preventative play before Kanda actually made a decision. What she had just told Kanda had turned out to be damage control, but that annoying thing about damage control was that no matter what, the damage was still done. She was just unsure of how much she had managed to salvage. The facial expression Kanda had had when she'd left, as well as her obvious display of anger, hopefully indicated that the damage had been minimal.

"Things with Kanda not going too well?" said a voice in front of her.

Iris gritted her teeth for a second but forced herself to relax. She sat up, finding Lavi in front of her. The familiar glowing end of a cigarette butt dangled in front of him.

"You smoke?" she said, surprised.

"Occasionally," he shrugged.

"Do your friends know about this?"

"Nope."

"You're not afraid I'd tell them?"

"I'm smoking in front of you, aren't I?" he said wryly. "Clearly, I don't care very much if you know."

He was speaking with the air of a very self-satisfied man. It annoyed Iris.

"I'm guessing you and Kanda had a very long talk," she said.

"It wasn't all about you," he clarified. "Don't get too cocky."

Iris stared at him. She tried counting to three—she was more controlled than this—but she was dangerously close to tipping point.

"So what did you tell him?" she said evenly.

"That there's no way you're being serious emotionally, you just want to manipulate the shit out of him," said Lavi with a grin. "It's not like I was lying, was I?"

"Oh, so all of a sudden, you think you _get_ me?" she smirked.

"You said that to me yourself," said Lavi. " I only repeated what I heard."

"That's only because I said what you wanted to hear," she said. "Don't you think this game is becoming a bit one-sided?"

"As in it's too easy for me?" said Lavi, leaning against the edge of the roof and peering down below. "You think that kissing Kanda is going to get you in his head, but I think I blocked that passage pretty quickly."

"No, you did not," said Iris lightly. "You assume you know me. Exactly where you get that confidence is beyond me, but you didn't even take into consideration the possibility that so far, my play has been perfect and I have you exactly where I need."

Finally, Lavi's smile ceased to exist. "I was unaware you didn't want Kanda after all."

"Lavi…" she said, stretching as she stood, "you bore me. It's disappointing."

"Explain yourself," he said evenly.

Iris stood next him and looked down at the city below her. She was now very much in control of the situation—the more she thought about it, the play that Lavi had made was easily correctable. She had just left Kanda with news of a significant sacrifice on her part—giving up Tyki. If that didn't prove how serious she was about Kanda, she didn't know what else would.

"No matter how much smarter you are," she said lazily, "you are exactly like Kanda. Believing in the world. That there is only good and bad, and good always prevails. Even when you're talking with me, no matter how obvious it is that I'm your enemy, you think I'm telling you the truth about how I really feel."

"I know your mask drops when you're in front of me," he said.

"Hon, my mask drops in front of _Kanda_. It doesn't mean the real me is suddenly only capable of telling the truth. It's quite the opposite, actually."

"So what you told me last night, about wanting to manipulate Kanda. I'm guessing you were lying?" he said disbelievingly.

"Some of it was true," she said. "I do believe that I'll usurp you very soon. But are my ambitions for Kanda so malicious? Of course I'd tell you that, because that's what you want to believe. If you heard it from me directly, then it would be that much easier to convince Kanda that I am not serious about him at all, and your throne would be safe and sound. But tell me, Lavi." She leaned her chin on her hand and looked at him. "Just why do you protect your throne so diligently?"

"Because I'm Kanda's friend," he said edgily.

"And Kanda needs your protection?"

"You know how he is," said Lavi, his one visible eye glowing coldly. "People like you tend to get under his skin without him knowing."

"Ah. Understandable. But are you sure it's not something else? Something a little less selfless?" She smiled at him, which he returned with one of his own.

"Do elaborate, Miss Fairing."

"It's nothing much, Lavi. I just wonder…how would Kanda feel if the best friend he's confided everything to has actually desired him all this time? Wouldn't he feel very…betrayed?"

She was watching for a reaction, and it was at this point that Iris finally appreciated that Lavi was a worthy challenge after all. His expression did not change, and other than the slightest rigidity that took root in his profile, there would have been no reaction entirely. She had to be impressed—had the situation been reversed, she would have found it impossible to hide the obvious changes in her expression.

"Is that your final trump card?" said Lavi with a cold smirk. "You think I'm gay and that I'm in love with Kanda? In case you've missed reality, Iris, I'm dating Lenalee."

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "Stop clinging to that ridiculous relationship—that's what gave you away in the first place. What boyfriend goes to look for his best male friend instead of looking after his drunk and completely vulnerable girlfriend at a party? What boyfriend insists on staying the night at his best guy friend's house instead of going with his girlfriend to her room for some privacy? You're going to tell me that you flew all the way over here from London and aren't going to sleep with your girlfriend because you'd rather spend time with your bro? Not possible."

"It wouldn't be," said Lavi coolly, "except you don't know Lenalee. We've never slept together. She's not ready and I'm not pushing it."

"Ooh, what a good boyfriend." She gave him a mocking wince, as if wounded, but then smiled widely. "Wrong. Lenalee is not that innocent. If you're not sleeping with her, then who is?"

"What do you mean?"

"She asked me for birth control today," she said. "Yes, I know what you want to say—birth control can be prescribed for other reasons. But anyone panicking that much about missing a day of birth control is not taking it for other reasons."

Lavi, at long last, was silent. Iris examined her nails, admiring the manicure she had given herself and feeling very satisfied.

"You're good," said Lavi finally.

"Thank you. I try."

"It doesn't matter that I've liked Kanda for ages," he said. "I've kept it to myself. I haven't done anything to hurt him."

"You and I both know that's not the point," said Iris, no longer smiling and looking at Lavi seriously. "In this world, intent matters. If you were to confess to Kanda, it would shatter your entire relationship because this whole time, Kanda has confided in no one but you. His past, his fears, what little hopes and dreams he has—he has poured them all in you. It has given you a very special role in his life, one where he is utterly dependent on you, but it comes with high stakes and a heavy burden because you can never break away from this role without undermining everything Kanda considers you. He wanted a best friend and you gave that to him. You want more but you can never get it because the moment you tell him, Kanda will think you betrayed his confidence. His entire life, he has been repulsed by the idea of contact and desire. If he knows that you have those feelings toward him, he will think you're exactly like all those people who abused his trust in the past."

"I've never—I _wouldn't_ abuse his trust," said Lavi harshly.

"I know," said Iris simply. "And truthfully, I think Kanda knows too. But he won't be able to control his emotions, love. Not when his two best friends have been lying to him this entire time."

"Leave Lenalee out of it," said Lavi dangerously.

"Why? She's been playing along with you this entire time—I'm guessing to cover for you in your moments of overt affection for Kanda. It's all an act, and only Kanda doesn't know. If he finds out, he will close up and both of us will lose the guy we're fighting so hard for."

"…Why are you fighting for him? If you know all these things and just want to torment him—"

"I don't want to torment him," said Iris. "I would do anything for Kanda."

"For Kanda or for yourself?"

"Both," she said sharply.

"And would that include taking away the only two people in the world who understand him?" said Lavi coldly.

"…No. I don't want to. I know Kanda cares deeply for you and Lenalee."

"But you would," pressed Lavi.

"If you get in my way, yes, I would. Lavi, I do want to take your place but I don't want to kick you out completely. I am perfectly willing to admit that Kanda needs more than one friend in his life. I just want to be that special one you can never be."

"What makes you so different from me?"

"Everything," said Iris. "I have never lied to Kanda about my intentions. He knows they are blurry and he knows I am coldhearted. He knows I will do anything for him and he knows I am attracted to him on an emotional and physical scale. I have been very open with what I want to do with him and because he knows all of this and is still living with me, I know I have the chance he has never given to you. This is what I mean, Lavi, about us being on different levels. You are so conscientious of Kanda's feelings that they've cost you your own, and only now, when you've seen someone else navigating both equally well, do you realize that you've made a huge mistake."

"…So what? As long as Lenalee and I don't meddle with your business, you'll keep quiet?"

"Yes."

"And you'll do whatever you want to Kanda in the meantime."

"I'm not going to hurt him."

"But the moment we interfere, you will tell and you'll hurt him in the worst way possible."

Iris thought for a minute. "I suppose you could see it that way."

"So at the end of the day, you are willing to hurt Kanda."

"Depends on what you think telling him the truth will do…but I suppose yes. It would hurt him, if even just for a short while. Truthfully, I think it'd be better in the long run—I'd want to know if my friends thought I was stupid and needed protection so they lied to me my entire life," said Iris.

"We don't think he's stupid."

"Really? Honestly, sometimes I think he is."

She had nothing else to say and truthfully had spent much too long explaining herself to Lavi. Kanda really was stupid if his friends went to such ridiculous lengths to protect him. The world still turned regardless of whatever hardships people had; despite whatever issues he'd had in the past, Kanda had surrounded himself with very loyal friends and Iris could not help but hate them. Patience exhausted, she turned to leave.

"Che. I really didn't want to use this now," said Lavi.

"Secret weapon?" she said mockingly as she turned back to face him. "Don't kid around, Lavi, you don't have anything about Kanda to use against me—"

"I know you're entertaining an offer from Capital One," he said.

"Why, yes," she said mildly. "I am. And?"

"Is that your only job offer?"

"As of right now, sadly, yes."

"Wrong. I know you're entertaining much bigger offers from bigger names—Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan, and in the meantime, you applied to ten different law schools. Pretty divergent career tracks, but I suppose you're proficient enough to cover all bases."

Iris stared at him, all pretenses evaporating. The reins over the conversation had quickly switched hands—Iris had told no one about her career plans, not even Tyki because he wouldn't understand them. Capital One had just been a name she'd thrown out because she didn't need it; Goldman Sachs was the big one she was thinking about until she heard back from the law schools, but no one knew about those—

"You're not as good at hiding your thoughts," remarked Lavi. "Looks like all my sources were right."

"How the fuck—"

"The Bookman family is a very prestigious family, Iris Fairing. In your efforts to be a self-made woman, you neglect and ignore the true powers of generational influence. We have connections everywhere. This kind of information isn't hard to find out at all."

"So now what?" said Iris acidly. "You're going to block all my career passageways? How?"

"I thought your history with Cross Marian would do the trick," he answered casually.

Lavi was standing close to the edge of the roof and for one split second, Iris thought that one swift push would send Lavi spiraling over the border to his demise—but murder was punishable by death and Iris was not quite smart enough to hide a murder just yet.

"You don't deny it," said Lavi. "I thought you would."

"Of course I do," said Iris coolly. "That was all just a misunderstanding—he was helping me out with Tyki—"

"That is what's on Columbia record," said Lavi knowingly. "But it's obvious that they would've believed your bullshit excuse over the truth since it was that much prettier—your personal life with a host is obviously something Columbia has no jurisdiction over and is more preferable to the notion that Columbia's top professor and student are sleeping together."

Iris's blood ran cold. "…You have no proof."

"Quite the contrary, I do. You and Cross Marian dined at a variety of restaurants across the city, many of which the Bookman family is invested in. I have several compromising photos that I think will do the trick should I be asked to present evidence. And I suppose if I had to, I could confront Cross himself, but that's always annoying."

Iris had stopped breathing at this point.

"…You know him?"

"Very well, unfortunately," said Lavi.

Iris could barely bring herself to ask. "…Where is he?"

Lavi arched an eyebrow. "But that's besides the point. Cross isn't in the picture—yet—and I'm not going to fork over unnecessary information. I'm just giving you a short preview of what I could do if I wanted." Lavi blew out a breath of smoke. "I really didn't want to do this, but I needed to know if you were willing to hurt Kanda. Now that I know you are, though, I don't feel so bad."

He walked past her and she caught a glimpse of the triumphant smirk on his face.

"I underestimated you," she said.

"Yes, you did. I'm not afraid to play dirty and unlike you, I have the deductive skills and the resources to play the game well."

"This isn't over."

"For now, yes, it is. You say nothing to Kanda about me and your career options are as open as you want them to be."

"So that's it? We're just at a stalemate?"

"I guess," said Lavi easily. "Just depends on who you like more—Kanda or yourself."

The door shut behind her, leaving Iris alone on the roof. She mulled in silence for several seconds, thinking about what she had done since last night—from kissing Kanda to ending things with Tyki to just showing all her cards to Lavi—she began to laugh weakly as she repeated each and every mistake in her head over and over again and she realized, yes, this was what it was like to make mistakes, play too quickly, think too easily, and this was the feeling of what it was like to completely and utterly lose.

* * *

Iris sat in Joe's Coffee, cold, hungry, and tired. She had gotten very little sleep the night before—after her conversation with Lavi, she had been very reluctant to return home and had waited on the roof well into the night before she couldn't bear the cold any longer.

She sat at a table with her bags and books, for no matter what was going on in her personal life, finals were approaching and she needed to study. The asshole that was Lavi was returning to London today, much to Iris's relief. She had, without a doubt, gotten her ass handed to her. She needed time to think about the humiliating defeat and gather her sense of control.

Her phone remained close to her. She desperately wanted to text Tyki but refrained. Kanda was another option, but after everything that had transpired, she truly had no idea what her next move would be.

She sat with her laptop open in front of her, waiting for the line to get shorter so she could get much needed caffeine. As she scrolled through the front page of Google news, her phone buzzed.

It was a text from Kanda. _Where are you_?

It put her in a better mood, but she hesitated before replying. _I'm at Joe's studying. Did you drop off Lavi?_

She flipped her phone over so she wouldn't keep staring at the screen, waiting for Kanda to text back. Her gaze glossed over the articles. _Breaking News_, it read_, CEO of esteemed business firm Carlton and Associates accused of sexual abuse of minors. _Disgusted, Iris scrolled through the list.

Her phone buzzed again. She counted to seven in her head and flipped it over.

_Yeah, Tyki's car is parked where he left it. Why are you studying_?

She frowned. What kind of question was that? She was studying because there was much to be studied and finals were swiftly approaching.

_Because finals are in two weeks…? And you're not studying?_

She turned her attention back to the news. _Military base bombed in Syria…Tensions between North and South Korea lead to canceled summit…_

She glossed over the rest of the page and closed out of the window. There were always going to be sick people in the world. She just had to protect herself and that was it—she should've been putting her time to better use by finding out what kind of family Lavi actually came from and why he knew Cross…

But Iris couldn't bring herself to Google it. Cross had a plethora of academic articles and interviews as well as a very lengthy Wikipedia page all to himself—she knew it because she'd written quite a bit of that Wikipedia page, though she would never admit it to anyone else. After Cross had left, she had combed through those articles extensively, trying to find a clue to where he had gone. Of course, that was all very useless and any reminder of that time was unwelcome. With her ego sorely beaten by Lavi, she was in no mood to remind herself just how useless she could be.

Her phone vibrated again.

_I thought seniors didn't have to study anymore. And I only have one final. _

She grimaced. What kind of sophomore only had one final? And now that she thought about it, what major was Kanda exactly? She couldn't even imagine what Kanda enjoyed studying.

She got another text, this time from Tyki. Relief filled her.

_Where are you_?

She gave the same reply she'd given to Kanda, and was instantly rewarded with a _Stay there, I'll come meet you_.

Iris yawned and looked up, pleased to find that the line had been reduced down to two people. She stood up and approached the counter, thinking that coffee was going to be the best thing that happened to her in the last forty-eight hours.

"Hi," said the barista, "what can we get you?"

"I…oh," said Iris, suddenly realizing that she was empty-handed. "Sorry, I left my wallet in my backpack—hang on."

"We can go ahead and get started on your order," the barista chirped.

"Oh, thanks, I'll have a—"

"Two double Americanos—leave room in one," said a voice behind her. An arm extended out beside her, holding out a golden credit card to the barista. "It'll be on me."

From the moment he had spoken, Iris knew exactly who it was. She stared up at him now, caught so off guard that she legitimately couldn't think of any words to say.

He seemed to know these things, and after he looked at her face closely, turned back to the barista.

"Actually, make that a triple Americano," said Cross Marian generously. "You look like you'll need it, Iris."

* * *

_free talk_:

and cross makes his appearance. :)

hello world after much too long. a huge huge huge apology for making you wait for forever - i know a lot of people will be reading this and have to reread everything before because it's all been forgotten. sorry! life got very busy. i hope you are all doing well, and i'll try my best to update more consistently over the summer.

in the meantime, i hope you enjoyed this chapter. it was a little slow at parts but i think mostly everything was necessary, especially the long talk iris had with lavi. i wanted her to meet her match, hence not as much obvious kanda and iris interaction in this chapter, though there are the subtleties that i hope will do. obviously, this is iris's chapter - it's told entirely in her POV and it's also the first one where she seriously makes mistakes and loses. of course, having cross show up at the very last minute doesn't help.

please review! :) i'll update on my LJ as well.

xoxo,  
m.n


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